Smaller Stars
by Tailyn
Summary: As the youngest princess and fourth in line for the throne of Tortall, Lianne of Conte is used to being overlooked in favor of her older, more renowned siblings. She's happy to remain just shy of the spotlight; someone has other ideas.
1. Family Honor

**_Smaller Stars_**

**_Author_**_: Tailyn_

**_Rating_**_: PG-13, just in case._

**_Genre_**_: General/Adventure_

**_Disclaimer_**_: I do not own Tortall, Lianne, Liam, Jasson, Alan, Aly, Alanna, Jonathan, etc. Tortall, it's surrounding lands, and their recognizable inhabitants all belong to Tamora Pierce; I am only borrowing them. I only own the plot and the original characters._

**_Author's Notes_**_: I looked, but I wasn't able to find definitive ages for Lianne, Liam, or Jasson, all of whom appear regularly in this story. For my own purposes, I crafted ages for them, based around information in various books (especially _Wild Magic_ and _Trickster's Choice_) and the ages I needed them to be. At the beginning of this story, Liam is 17, Lianne is 16, and Jasson is 14. (For the record, that would make Roald 23 and Kalasin 22.) This story takes place about a year after _Trickster's Choice_, and will spoil parts of that story, so be careful reading if you haven't finished that book yet. As this is the first story I have posted publicly, I would really appreciate feedback so I know what I need to fix, and what does or doesn't appeal to a general audience. I'm not going to freak out at a little constructive criticism, I promise:-D_

-

**Midwinter, 462 H.E. – 23rd year of the reign of King Jonathan IV and Queen Thayet**

**Corus****, Tortall**

-

There was a time when fighting among the pages would be, if not deliberately brought to his attention, ignored by the training master of the pages of Tortall. It has been, Padraig haMinch admitted to himself as he surveyed the two boys in front of him, very quietly encouraged, now that he thought of it. It certainly had been at the time when he had been in training for his shield.

And yet, things had changed. His predecessor, Wyldon of Cavall, resigned from the position when he grew to believe that his leniency on fighting among the boys so significantly hindered their education that two actually died because of it. Personally, Padraig disagreed. He had known Joren of Stone Mountain as a boy, the haMinch fiefdom being relatively near that of Stone Mountain, and the vicious streak was just as present in the youth as in the man ultimately deemed unworthy by the Chamber.

Though in that one case Padraig did not believe the common brawls among the pages to be responsible, he was not an unintelligent man, and during his years as training master, it became clear to him that, generally, Wyldon was right. The violent rivalries among the pages and squires were entirely out of hand, and had been for quite some time. Upon discussion, Padraig found that many of the senior knights of the realm, and the king himself, agreed that it was foolish to allow the future knights of Tortall destroy themselves over childish competition. And so the general policies on fighting among the pages were, for the first time in decades, really enforced. The slaps on the wrists were gone, and Padraig had made no exceptions to his punishments in years.

This, he mentally sighed, was why he certainly couldn't start now, no matter who stood before his desk with a split lip and a growing black eye, as Jasson of Conte, the youngest prince of the realm, now was. Beside him stood Emrest of Nenan, similarly decorated with blooming purple bruises and a shallow cut across his forehead. This, in and of itself, surprised Padraig; Jasson and Emrest were not the closest of friends, perhaps, but the belonged to the same small social circle, and had never had any problems before. Adding to the peculiarity of the situation was the lack of the usual stormy faces boys brought in for punishment wore. The pair, instead, each displayed expressions of embarrassment, punctuated by the occasional apologetic glances they sent one another every so often. All this Padraig noted in silence, letting long, uncomfortable moments go by before be began to speak, as was generally the custom.

Finally, he shifted in his chair, placing his palms against the wood of the desk as he looked from one boy to the other. "Would either of you care to explain this?"

Emrest moved his gaze uneasily from Padraig to Jasson, who shrugged, and then focused his attention on his training master. "We lost our tempers over something foolish, sir." Eyes flickering to Emrest briefly, he went on, "We are both very ashamed of ourselves and will serve our punishment without complaint."

"May I inquire," Padraig began, his stare serious beneath heavy brows, "what drove you to lose your tempers to the point where you would engage in blows not only in front of other pages, but Swordsmaster Colbey, as well?"

Again, Jasson answered only after a silent look in his companion's direction. "A disagreement we had regarding a bet, sir."

"Which we have since resolved," Emrest said, finally adding his voice to the discussion.

"Oh, a bet," Padraig said, not entirely able to keep the dry tone he was becoming known for from creeping into his voice. "How unusual among my pages. Enlighten me, what about this bet was so controversial?"

This question brought a much longer pause from the boys than the others; both shifted their weight, reluctant to explain. It was Jasson again who spoke up. "We did not entirely agree on the reward for the winner."

Padraig toyed with the idea of questioning for the specifics, but judging by the flush growing on Emrest's face, and the extremely displeased frown on Jasson's, he decided that he probably would rather not know. "Very well," he said, sitting back in his seat. "You will both be suspended from leaving the palace grounds for the next three months, to begin with. You will also each report to me first thing tomorrow morning, so that I may give you the rest of your individual punishments. Emrest, may I remind you that this is the second time you have been called her for fighting. Should this happen again, you and I will need to have a very serious discussion regarding your future here. Both of you will report to Duke Baird at once."

Dismissed, the boys did not waste time exiting the office. Padraig could hear a muffled conversation begin just outside the door a moment later. Ignoring it, he returned to his papers.

-

In the hall outside, a petite young woman situated in an alcove near the door to the training master's office looked up as that door opened suddenly. She watched quietly as the two boys exited, shutting the door behind them. Both sighed heavily, as if they had been perhaps holding their breaths for their time in the office, and then looked at each other seriously.

"Sorry," Jasson finally said, running a hair through his dark hair awkwardly.

Emrest nodded, abashed. "Me too."

"You deserved it."

"I know." Accepting the extended hand Jasson was offering him and shaking it, Emrest offered a crooked grin, breaking the lingering tension. "We'll hear about this from everyone, you know that, right?"

Jasson could not help but laugh. "Absolutely."

He was about to continue further when he was interrupted by a voice from behind him. "So, you did start a fight then."

Both boys turned suddenly, startled. Emrest immediately flushed and bowed, eyes on the floor. "Your Highness."

"It's not polite to eavesdrop," Jasson said, arms folding across his chest. "Not at all ladylike."

Lianne of Conte offered her younger brother an innocent smile, quite the picture of a demure young lady, though she knew Jasson knew otherwise. "I wasn't eavesdropping at all! I just happened to be passing by when I saw you."

"I'm sure," Jasson drawled, quickly shooting Emrest a meaningful. Emrest bowed again, clearly flustered, and fled down the hall towards the healers'. "Who told you?"

"Liam," Lianne said simply, pretenses gone. "And Alan. _Apparently_ you started shouting in the middle of the sparring room and then flung yourself at poor Emrest in front of all your mates _and_ some knights who were watching _and_ the swordmaster. I've been told it was very dramatic. Or really funny. Depending on who I was talking to."

Jasson made a face at her and set off down the hallway, quite rightly confident that she would follow. "Remind me you said that next time I try not to laugh in Liam's face when he goes on about some girl."

"I'll try to remember," Lianne offered, grave tone not matching her grin in the least. "What'd he say to you?"

"Nothing."

Lianne rolled her eyes, slipping her arm through his and leaning against him with a charming smile. "It's not very nice to tell lies to your sister, Jasson. It hurts my feelings."

"I'm sure." Despite the annoyance in his voice, Jasson slowed his pace to match hers and did not shrug her arm off. He did, however, pinch her forearm with his other hand, and then ignore her yelp of protest.

"Please tell me?"

He sighed, feeling his resolve give in. Lianne had always been able to get him to tell her anything, and she knew it perfectly well. There was a time when Jasson, at the extremely indignant age of 7, had told her to mind her own business and leave him alone when she had gone to him for gossip, but she had completely ignored him, a tradition which generally continued.

"He and I had made a bet last week, but we didn't agree to the terms. Today he said that if I won he'd keep his cousin Amari from bothering me all night as usual, but if he won, he wanted me to talk you into a few dances at the ball this evening."

Though she found the stalwart defense of her brothers' sweet, if not annoying at times, Lianne could not contain the peal of laughter that his explanation caused. "So, you hit him?"

"Not right away," he sniffed.

"My champion. Well, I'm touched – really, I am. But it wasn't necessary. Uncle George visited me this morning, and I've already promised him all my dances, so I won't have the time." Lianne offered him a sideways grin, eyes dancing impishly. "But Jasson, please try to get used to being nicer to all my _many_ suitors. You can't beat all of them up."

He scowled and pinched her again.


	2. Midwinter Night I

Even though she was no longer a little girl, Lianne couldn't help but laugh and clench her eyes shut when George Cooper, Baron of Pirate's Swoop and her uncle (by love if not relation) wrapped his strong arms around her waist, picked her up, and spun her in circles on the dance floor, just as he had when she was much smaller. Her Uncle had always been one of her favorite dance partners, though she no longer had to stand on his feet to keep up.

The largest Midwinter Second Night party was in full effect, and the palace was decorated with its usual splendor. The pomp and circumstance of the evening had come and gone, and many of the guests had left the Crystal Room in favor of the ballroom, where there was not so much polite conversation and a good deal more merrymaking.

Lianne was dimly aware that, along with being spun in circles, she was being taken somewhere, but she did not know where until George deposited her on the ground. She opened her eyes to find herself at the edge of the dancers, and then shut them again, dizzy. George put a hand to her shoulder, laughing as he steadied her.

"There we go, my girl." Once the room stopped spinning treacherously and settled into its proper place, Lianne looked up into the eyes of her uncle, returning his smile. "It's not Midwinter until I've had my dance."

Lianne inhaled deeply to regain her breath, absently catching sight of a redhead moving in their direction. "Until you've spun me around until I can't see straight, you mean? Don't worry, Aunt Alanna, I've only borrowed him."

George turned to face his wife, the King's Champion and Baroness of Pirate's Swoop and Olau, now beside him. She smiled, though, as was often the case recently, the smile was not as full as it once may have been. "I appreciate it. Once upon a time he'd try to talk _me_ into dancing all night. Now I can sit in peace. George, Jonathan wants you."

"I'll be back for you later," George informed Lianne, kissing his wife on the cheek and beginning to carefully dodge his way through the milling crowd. Alanna watched him go, looking tired despite the smile lingering around her lips.

Lianne hesitated, unsure. She had always gotten along very well with her Aunt Alanna, though she did not see her very often. Yet, now she felt awkward and unsure of what to say. Alanna glanced sideways at her, and her purple eyes softened, losing some of their downcast air. "Oh, don't let a stick in the mud like me spoil your fun. Come on – Daine's about, but I haven't seen her yet. I'm fairly certain someone said she was bringing Sarralyn with her tonight."

Brightening instantly, Lianne followed her aunt towards one of the smaller sitting rooms, eager to see Daine and her daughter again.

-

"Excuse me," As soon as she saw George across the room, Queen Thayet the Peerless removed herself from the small group she had been talking to and crossed towards her husband, still seated on his throne and deep in conversation with Gareth of Naxen. George arrived a moment later, just as Thayet was seating herself.

"Your Majesties," George nodded, mouth set in a thin line. He held up a hand as Gary moved to excuse himself, and glanced quickly around the area. "You need to hear this, too. But perhaps not here."

King Jonathan of Conte, stood, his face momentarily stony, though he replaced the frown with a neutral expression quickly. "Of course. My dear –"

Thayet rose as well, taking her husband's offered arm. The foursome wasted little time exiting the Crystal Room, and did not speak until they were carefully tucked away in a small parlor off the grand hall with the door locked and the room checked for any unknown presences.

"I'm sorry I couldn't see you sooner," Jonathan said once they were all seated, watching George closely. "What is it you wanted to discuss?"

George hesitated, looking from Jonathan to Thayet. Without turning, he could sense Gary's eyes on his face, inquisitive. He took a deep breath. "News from Aly, Jon. About Rubinyan."

Thayet frowned, puzzled. "I thought he was busy putting his household in order."

"He is," George supplied, contemplating his words, "Which includes looking into relations still returning from exile after Oron's death. Aly doesn't know much about many of the families coming out of the woodwork, but a few months ago, Hiresh Rukhev returned to the capitol."

"I've never heard of him," Gary said, eyebrows knitting together thoughtfully. "But the family name sounds familiar."

"He's a nephew of Oron," George supplied, leaning forward in his chair. "He was sentenced to death a little over two years ago, and has been hiding on Ikang Island since, as far as I can gather. Rubinyan officially pardoned him and returned his titles and estate. He's considered a lesser prince, now."

Jonathan could not suppress a heavy sigh. "It worries me that Rubinyan is organizing. A year ago, the powerful families were too scattered to support the royal house. Now –" He paused, fingers stroking his beard in thought. "It's good to know who's coming into power, at the very least. And it's good to know they still have a way to go before they've totally settled their court."

"Indeed." Thayet folded her hands in her lap, voice as calm as always, despite the faint look of unease on her face. "It'd be foolish to pull any of the troops from the northern border yet, and there's no question as to which Navy is superior. We can't afford conflict with _anyone_ right now, never mind the Copper Isles."

"Ah, there's the thing," George clucked his tongue, not entirely willing to go on. "Aly's written that the word about is that Rubinyan isn't looking for war with Tortall. Actually, he's in the market for an alliance, now that power is shifting. The outward excuse is that with a king unable to rule, the country can't afford any enemies."

Gary nodded his assent, voice thoughtful. "He's right."

"He is. And so Aly expects you'll be hearing from Rubinyan soon, Jon, about the creation of formal ties between Tortall and the Copper Isles." George looked meaningfully around at those present, jaw set. "Through a marriage for Hiresh."

A quiet settled on the room. Thayet, after the briefest of moments, paled slightly and looked back at George with wide eyes.

"Marriage? He must know perfectly well that we'd certainly not break Kalasin's engagement; our relations with Carthak would never recover. And certainly he'd realize we would never send Lianne out when –"

"I don't think," George interrupted Jon midway through his sentence, voice very quiet, "He realizes that at all. Hiresh is around 21. Lianne is just the right age to be considered as a wife. There she would be considered a lesser princess – unable to inherit, of course, as a woman, and not likely to take the throne here. To him it must seem a perfect match."

"Absolutely _not_." Thayet's eyes were hard as she shook her head, meeting her husband's eyes. "I refuse to even consider it."

"Give word to Aly that she has done us a great favor by getting this to us in advance." Jonathan sat back in his chair, blue eyes serious beneath furrowed brows. "It will give us time to think up a diplomatic way to say no."

"It will have to be _very_ diplomatic," Gary said, shaking his head slowly as well. "Rubinyan is certainly saner than Oron, but no less ruthless, I've heard. We'll have to be careful in how we approach this."

George nodded stiffly. "At least we have some time."

-

Sarralyn gurgled, much more interested in the braceleted arm holding her than the group of women happily chatting over her small head. At 18 months old, her fascination with shiny objects took up a good deal of her time, especially when in the presence of her many adoptive aunts, who always had something pretty for her to examine, and usually suck on. In this case she was so fascinated that she did not respond in the least when her name was mentioned, as she usually did.

"At least we're through teething, which is a small blessing," her mother was saying, though even if she had been paying attention, Sarralyn would have had no idea what that meant.

"Think if she hadn't stopped shape shifting – _imagine_ the teething!" The speaker was Onau Chamtong, horsemistress for the Queen's Riders and Sarralyn's godmother.

Daine blanched, casting a sideways glance at her daughter. "I thank mother every day for curing her of that habit, and try not to imagine life if she hadn't. One of us would have lost a limb!" The wildmage grinned, adding as an afterthought, "Probably Numair."

"I feel like I haven't seen her in ages – she looks so different!" Lianne beamed at the small girl in her arms who was now standing and tentatively holding onto Lianne's shoulders as she critically examined the silver filigree about her neck. "Does she talk much yet?"

"Not all that much," Daine said, watching her daughter experimentally chew on her own fingers. "Mostly she says 'ma' and 'da', and of course, 'no' much more than I'd like. I don't think she has a clue what it means, of course. She says no to everything."

"I'm sure she'll learn soon enou-_aaaah_." Lianne could not help but wince and trail off as Sarralyn, having abandoned the necklace for the much more interesting silver eardrops, decided to see if she could take one, and pulled Lianne's earlobe enthusiastically.

Daine was standing before her in a second, carefully lifting the infant away with one hand and removing her hand from Lianne's ear with the other. "Sorry! Come on sweetling, let's not rip that out. Good girl. I forgot all about warning you to watch your ears, Lianne."

Despite a now aching and very red ear, Lianne laughed with the rest of the women and continued the conversation.


	3. Midwinter Night II

_Winter isn't fair,_ Lianne thought, resting her weight against the smooth stone railing which fenced in the small balcony she stood on. _It's too hot to stay in there and too cold to be out here._

Though it was getting late, the party inside was still as lively as it had been. The masses of people and the material of her dress made the ballroom's atmosphere seem stifling, and when Daine had excused herself to put Sarralyn to bed, Lianne had used the chance to slip away, herself. Now she stood, eyes on the snow covered gardens below. In any other season, this particular garden would be home to at least one pair of lovers seeking a private moment in the moonlight, but the deep snow and icy paths sent couples to warmer locals, which Lianne was grateful for. The quiet was nice, even if the cold wasn't.

At 16 years old, Lianne was being asked to dance by young men much more frequently than in previous years. Since being formally presented at court two years ago, Lianne had been asked to dance her fair share of times, but the requests were noticeably numerous this year. Lianne expected she knew why; Kalasin, her older sister and the elder princess, was not present this year. She was, instead, touring Carthak with the Emperor Kaddar, her future husband. She would not return until late February or March, when the preparations for the wedding would begin in earnest. The wedding itself would take place around Midsummer. Lianne was not looking forward to it.

Her sister seemed to like Kaddar well enough, that's not what displeased her. Lianne liked Kaddar as well, and he held Daine, Numair, and Alanna's full confidence, which greatly boosted the general population's opinion of him. But when she thought about it to herself, Carthak was so terribly far away. Kalasin had only just returned from spending a good deal of time with their aunt, the Countess, when she agreed to the match between her and Kaddar. Now she had been gone two months already.

_At least the progress here is over_, Lianne sighed. As the country was at war, the progress for Kalasin had been significantly smaller than that for their oldest brother, Roald, when he was engaged. It was still much too long for Lianne's taste, and she was extremely thankful that it was over and there was no talk of anyone else marrying in the near future. She didn't expect she could manage so many parties again so soon and keep her sanity.

"Who're you hiding from, then?" A deep voice drew Lianne out of her thoughts, and another pair of arms entered her line of vision to rest against the stone. She turned her eyes up to the face of her older brother, Liam of Conte. He smiled at her, though his deep blue eyes, so known in the Royal family, were curious.

 "I am _not_ hiding," she said, though she fully expected him to see right through that flimsy denial. "I'm just getting some air."

"It's cold - you should go inside."

"So should you.  Lets not, shall we?" Lianne offered a quick grin to her brother, who chuckled slightly. He ran a hand over his tunic, feeling the deep blue velvet thoughtfully.

"This is very warm," he informed her, mock seriously. With a nod in the direction of her much lighter blue silk gown, he smirked. "Much warmer than that, I'm sure."

Lianne didn't bother to argue. She was freezing. "I don't mind the cold. It was too hot inside." She paused, turning her eyes back out to the night sky as they stood in comfortable silence. "You couldn't have known I was out here when you came," she finally said, turning to him fully. "Why are you here?"

Liam shrugged. "Mother and father are being very serious right now, and so everyone else around them is too. I wasn't really in the mood for it."

"What's upsetting them?"

"Oh, you know how it goes lately," Liam tapped his fingers against the stone, tone vague. "Aly sends word about whatever it is she's off doing and everyone is very quiet for a few days before something happens somewhere else and we forget all about her."

"Aly?" Lianne perked up instantly, tugging her brother's arm. "No one told me she sent word! How is she? _Where_ is she? Do you know what she wrote about?"

"No."

Lianne paused and frowned, drawing her hand away. She had not inherited the Conte gift, as all of her siblings excepting Liam himself had.  She _did,_ however, have the Sight, which her uncle had told her appeared fairly regular in her grandmother's family.  It wasn't strong enough to be particularly noteworthy, but it did let her see when someone lied to her, as Liam just had. It didn't sit well with her; Liam generally didn't to other people, but he almost never lied to her. She had always been closest to him of her all her siblings, and unlike Jasson, she never had to talk him around to find things out; they always told each other everything. His dishonesty raised flags in her mind. Unsure of how to reply, she said nothing.

"Besides," he went on, "You know how it'll turn out. Whatever the problem is, they'll fix it and we'll never hear about it again. It won't matter in a month."

This time he told the truth, which set Lianne slightly at ease, though not completely. If it were something very serious, he'd be acting differently. She'd not bother finding out the contents of Aly's letter tonight. Roald would probably give in and tell her in the morning. "My fingers are going numb. Let's go in."

-

Jasson was staring at a spot on the wall, quite obviously incredibly bored, when they reached the table at which they had been sitting earlier. Lianne smiled brightly, smoothing her skirts as she looked from one brother to the other. Though she participated in the conversation, her mind was not on her brothers' idle chatter (and bickering). She could not help but realize with a pang that she preferred when they were younger, and would have their own party with some of the younger children of the Court Nobles at Midwinter. As Kalasin and Roald had generally made public appearances at the big party, Lianne and Liam had lorded over the loud group of children in the nursery as the Midwinter 'King' and 'Queen' and Jasson was usually dubbed the King's Champion for the evening.

Now they all attended the big party, and did not have nearly as much fun. Jasson was dressed in the formal red and gold tunic and hose, marking him as a royal page. _A squire as soon as he's asked, _Lianne realized, _and he'll probably go north._ The thought did not settle her. Liam, by contrast, wore the royal blue and silver of their house. This both amused and saddened her. He usually shied away from going out of his way to distinguish himself as a member of the Royal Family, but having been awarded his shield mere days before, he didn't seem to mind showing off his status as a full knight this year. She had half expected him to show up this evening fully accessorized with his sword and shield. Alan had probably talked him out of it, she realized, eyeing the squire in question.

Alan of Pirate's Swoop and Olau had appeared in the space between Jasson and Liam, also adorned in his house colors, though he would not enter the Chamber for another few nights. Winking at her, he punched Liam's upper arm lightly in their traditional greeting. He went to do the same to Jasson, and then stopped; his fist poised a few inches away and his face a mask of worry. "You won't thrash me if I do this, will you?"

Jasson scowled and Alan beamed, having been granted his desired reaction. That done, he turned his attentions to Lianne. "Princess! You are by far the most ravishing woman here tonight, excepting your dear Mother, of course, who is sadly already spoken for, damn your Father. I would be honored – so honored – if you would grant a humble nearly-knight with a moment of your divine time and a dance." With a flourish, he bowed low, ignoring the eye rolls offered in his direction by both Conte boys.

"You know, one day you're going to sweet-talk a girl who doesn't know not to take you seriously," Lianne told him, as solemnly as she could manage. "And then you'll be a whole world of trouble, won't you?"

Alan held a hand to his breast dramatically, eyes wide. "You don't take me seriously? I proclaim my undying affection for you each and every day and you laugh. You're cruel."

"Shut him up and dance with him," said Liam, shooting his closest friend a look that was more amused than annoyed, "Before I make Jasson."

As Lianne rose and took Alan's offered arm, Jasson shot Liam a skeptical look. She could hear him over her shoulder challenging their brother. "I would _love_ to see you try."

Alan whirled her on the dance floor, and she momentarily forgot her brothers, concentrating completely on keeping up with him. No matter what the occasion, Alan always made dancing a very silly experience.

Liam and Jasson didn't see Lianne for quite some time. When Alan returned, he reported, among comical moans of love lost, that she had been swept away by another newly knighted young man and he hadn't seen her since.

When Jasson did see her next, she was dancing with Emrest. He rolled his eyes and knew there'd be no living with his friend for months.


	4. Ambassadors

**-**

**January 21, 463 H.E. – 23rd year of the reign of King Jonathan IV and Queen Thayet**

**The ****Royal ****Palace****, Corus, Tortall**

-

The one o'clock bell had just stopped ringing when Lianne returned to her chambers after lunch. The wing which housed her living quarters was quiet, a fact Lianne was getting used to, but still didn't like. Inside the wing were the living chambers of all five children of the Royal Family, though many of the rooms were seldom used. At one time, Roald occupied the first several rooms, and Liam the next. Across the hall lay Kalasin's quarters, and beside them Lianne's own. The door to Jasson's lay at the end of the hall, where the nursery once was.

Jasson's room had been unoccupied for four years, and would be for another four. All pages and squires roomed in the same wing, or with their Knight Masters, and princes were no exception. Liam had been gone for the same reasons, but had returned to his quarters at midwinter, now a full knight. Kalasin never officially left her room, but did not stay there for prolonged periods of time when she was with the Countess, or in Carthak, as the case currently was. Only Liam and Lianne herself remained in the wing, and Liam was often in other parts of the castle. Roald, though he did return for a time after being knighted, had now permanently left the children's wing. He and his wife, Shinkokami, were given a suite elsewhere in the palace, for privacy, among other things.

It was Shinkokami who caused Lianne's footsteps to be hurried as she returned to her dressing room. The ice had only recently thawed enough that archery practice was possible again; now arrows fired at targets would actually stick, rather than leave a sizable dent in the ice and bounce right back off, as they had been doing. Lianne was due to meet her sister in law at the fields, so that they might catch up on the practice that the frigid weather had caused them to miss.

Abandoning her gown in favor of more practical clothes, Lianne redressed quickly, pulling on breeches and a shirt (Which, in her opinion, were infinitely more comfortable) as well as several extra layers to guard against the cold outside. Normally, she would have been in this type of attire all day, but many nobles still remained after midwinter, and not all were as open minded about female behavior as the majority who lived year round in the palace. Lianne had decided years before she'd rather wear a dress more often than usual certain times of the year than have to hear about not doing some every time she sat entered a room. Liam and Jasson had tried to break her of this habit, firm in their belief that she shouldn't have to be uncomfortable for a bunch of stuffy old men, but has thus far failed. Roald, at least, understood why she did it, and when Roald was on your side in an argument, you generally had already won.

_He was strange at lunch today,_ Lianne thought, absent mindedly sitting and beginning to lace up her boots. It was the truth; he had been behaving oddly, and so was Liam, now that she thought about it - especially when they addressed Lianne. She couldn't put her finger on exactly what it was, but she knew something was off about her two brothers. Several times through lunch she caught Liam watching her longer than was necessary, or would see Roald exchanging glances with Shinkokami when she said something that Lianne would consider perfectly innocent. Lianne did her best to ignore this, as did Shinkokami and the others seated with them; though, Lianne was sure that Roald has kicked Liam in the knee at least once, and _that_ was something she'd more expect of Jasson.

They weren't the only ones behaving oddly. Alan had been perfectly normal the night they had danced at the party, but the next day, he had been uncommonly serious and thoughtful. Since then he had been on and off serious and silly, attitude changing by the day, sometimes even by the hour. Mood swings were not unprecedented in Alan, but he demeanor lately was far too like his older brother, Thom's, for Lianne's comfort.

The unusual atmosphere made Lianne wary. She still didn't know what was in Aly's letter home; Roald was as tight lipped as always, Liam continued to feign ignorance and Jasson, as usual, had no clue whatsoever. Lianne hadn't even bothered trying to get it out of her parents; she knew it'd never work. They, too, seemed tense lately, but that was nothing unusual. There was always something for them to worry about.

Fully dressed, Lianne fetched her bow and quiver and set out for the archery ranges. Out of habit, she did not take the fastest route, which would lead her past the public areas of the palace, which she knew would be full of people; instead she took the back exit, through the servant's wing and the kitchen, and then doubled through the stables. No one seemed terribly surprised to see her. The palace staff, especially those in the kitchen and stables, was used to Lianne using the many smaller connecting rooms there as hideaways when someone she didn't want to talk to was looking for her. Many had helped make sure no one looked in that particular pantry or broom closet in the past.

By the time Lianne arrived at the archery range, Shinkokami was there and waiting for her, bow in hand. She did not seem annoyed to have been kept waiting. She rested comfortable against a wooden fence, chatting casually with Buri, a regular face at the archery ranges, and the wife of Sir Raoul of Goldenlake and Malorie's Peak, another of Lianne's adoptive uncles. The two women smiled as Lianne approached.

"You took the long way around?" Shinkokami asked, eyes crinkled with silent laughter. When Lianne nodded, she went on, "I wish I had thought to. Leyia of Stacine caught me on my way out. She was very cranky."

Lianne nodded again, sympathetic. "I've met her. She wanted to introduce me to her son the second night of Midwinter."

"I've met her son," Buri said darkly, clearly unimpressed. "I hope you said no."

"Oh, I would have been just _delighted_ to meet him," Lianne replied, sighing a little too dramatically to be sincere and grinning cheekily, "But _unfortunately_ I had to give a very important message to my father and I simply _couldn't_ stay, no matter how much I _desperately_ wanted to."

"Really?"

"Of course not."

Buri laughed and stood, picking up her bow and returning to her practice area, a bit further down the field. Lianne and Shinko, likewise, gathered their bows and quivers and took their positions beside one another. For quite a while the two shot in companionable silence broken only so often by a comment from one to another on the wind or the icy conditions.

"I don't think I'll ever catch up to you," Shinko sighed some time later, making a face at her target and the arrows sticking from it. "This type of archery is not for me."

"Yes, but I can't pick up a glaive without personal injury, as I'm sure you remember," said Lianne, flashing a quick smile. After a moment, she explained, "When I was younger, I wanted desperately to join the Riders when I was old enough. I practiced all the time. Daine taught me, too, so I couldn't have asked for a better teacher."

"Why didn't you join?"

Lianne hesitated, glancing down the field at Buri, who was restringing her bow. "Mother misses us when we aren't around," she finally said, voice lowered slightly. "She won't admit to it, but she hates it that Kalasin's off, and when Roald or Liam go up to the border. She's dreading Jasson being taken as a squire. It almost makes me hope he won't be chosen by a field knight, but I know he will. If I joined the riders, I'd be gone all the time too. So, I didn't."

"She wouldn't like it at all if she knew that's why you didn't join."

"Which is why she doesn't." Lianne snuck a look at Buri again. If the former commander of the Queen's Riders had heard any of the conversation, she wasn't acknowledging it.

-

By the time she returned to her room, Lianne was covered in sweat and aching. When she found a hot bath waiting for her, she found herself wishing she had the energy to find Maera, the maid she knew was responsible. Painfully shy, Maere had the tendency to slip in and out while Lianne wasn't paying attention, but she seemed to always know exactly what Lianne needed, sometimes even before Lianne knew herself. Vowing to catch her before she went to be, Lianne undressed and slip into the tub, her back screaming in protest. _That means you did it right,_ she smiled, hearing Alanna's voice in her head.

Leaning back and letting the hot water work on the knots in her muscles, Lianne looked to the ceiling, thinking. She had taken the long way back inside, and on her way through the stables, noticed two horses she was not at all familiar with. Their tack didn't bear markings of any division or house, and the slates attached to the front of each stall had yet to be marked with names. The holster she questioned didn't not much more than she did; only that the horses' owners had ridden up from Port Legaan early in the afternoon.

Normally, she would assume the riders were couriers or something of the like and think nothing of it. It was the particular stable the horses were being kept in that drew Lianne's attention. That stable was only used for important guests to the palace who did not plan to leave quickly or expect to be called away on short notice. That ruled out couriers and officers from any of the Scanran patrols. The lack of markings on the tack led Lianne to doubt it was a visiting noble, either. She sighed and sank lower in the water, closing her eyes. She'd ask Liam later.

-

When she opened her eyes again, the water was chilly and someone was knocking on the main door of her quarters. Lianne sat for a moment, dazed, before climbing out of the tub and reaching for her dressing gown.

"Lianne?" Jasson's voice asked from the hall, the knocking momentarily paused.

Lianne straightened her robe and tied the sash as she crossed to the door and opened it a crack. Assured her brother was alone she opened the door fully, stepping aside to let him in.

"You should get dressed," he told her, surveying her attire. "There's people here."

"I saw the horses," she said, glancing over her shoulder as she returned to the dressing room in search of something to wear. "How dressed should I get?"

Jasson quite literally threw himself into a chair, tapping his fingers on the armrest impatiently. "A dress. Something nice. They're ambassadors from the Copper Isles."

Lianne, despite her surprise, smiled to herself. Jasson was trying very hard to contain his excitement concerning these mysterious guests, and was failing quite spectacularly. She could understand; if she had heard about any ambassadors showing up, she had completely forgotten about it. "Did we know they were coming?"

"Nope." A pause. "What's _taking_ so long?"

"My hair."

Jasson snorted in disgust, as Lianne expected he would. She could hear him get up and begin to pace around the sitting room, making small noises of irritation at being kept waiting. She ignored this entirely, and continued to plait her still damp hair.

Securing her hair with a leather tie, she surveyed herself in the mirror as she began pinning the braid around her head. A pair of hazel eyes, leaning towards green, looked appraisingly back at her, set in a face that looked a good deal like a younger, less startlingly beautiful version of Thayet. They eyes were basically the same, as was the ivory complexion and the coal black hair. The perfect mouth she regrettably lacked, having instead inherited her father's smile, but the more finely boned facial structure she had also inherited from him lessened the sting somewhat. Lianne debated applying some face paint briefly, but decided quickly that the gown was enough.

When she emerged into the sitting room again, Jasson had pulled a flower from a vase and was idly picking petals off and dropping them into a small pile. Taking one look at the deep green gown Lianne had chosen, he dropped the flower stalk onto the table beside the petals, and moved to the door. "It took you long enough," he sulked.

Lianne rolled her eyes at his back as she followed, fully aware that, unless she was completely naked, he probably wouldn't care in the least what she was wearing at this point.

By the time Lianne and Jasson reached the entrance hall, it had become clear to her that the arrival of the two ambassadors had stirred up a great deal of excitement.

"…requested to meet with Father and Mother as soon as possible, of course, but Father's been in a meeting since mid-morning and Mother's certainly not going to see them without him. Nobody had a clue they were coming."

He led her to the formal drawing room, where visitors customarily waited while it was sorted out where they were supposed to be going. Lianne expected that the guest wing was the busiest area of the palace right now, as maids rushed to ready rooms for the new arrivals.

Jasson clearly would have marched right into the drawing room, but Lianne paused in the doorway, blocking his path. Inside, two men were seated comfortable in chairs, doing their best to draw Liam, standing near the hearth, into conversation. Liam was obviously not interested, and Lianne found herself puzzled by the cold look to his face and posture. Typically, he was very polite to guests, especially ones on business with their parents. Leaning against the far wall was Alan, arms folded across his chest and an extremely serious look in his green eyes. It was Alan who first noticed Lianne lingering in the doorway a moment later, and he stood straight abruptly, a neutral mask she had seen before slipping over his face. The rooms other inhabitants looked up at his sudden motion, then followed his gaze to Lianne.

She stepped inside and curtsied to the two men now standing to face her, casting Liam a quizzical glance. Jasson entered just behind him, then stopped short at the dangerous looks his brother was sending in his direction.

"Your Highness," the shorter of the two visitors said, bowing to her.

"Forgive me," Liam began after a long breath, a pleasant expression overtaking his features. "Gentlemen, may I present Princess Lianne and Prince Jasson of Conte." He turned to Lianne and Jasson, and despite his cordial air, Lianne could see something very dark in his eyes. "These are ambassadors from the Copper Isles. Lord Teuku Imam and His Highness, Prince Hiresh Rukhev"

The two men smiled at Lianne, and she found that she did not like their smiles at all.

-

_A/N: I would like to thank everyone who has reviewed so far – I'm so excited to get such positive feedback! _M'cha Araem:_ As far as I can tell, that's the right order. Lianne and Jasson's birth order is a little ambiguous – Tamora identifies them as the youngest prince and princess, but never says which one is the older of the two. I just took a guess. My guestimation on the ages is this: Roald – 23, Kalasin – 22, Liam – 17, Lianne – 16, Jasson – 14. (As for Alanna's brood, that would make Thom 19 and Alan and Alianne 17) I'm sure I'm off a little, but I think I have them all in _generally_ the right range. I hope! ; )_


	5. Gentlemanly Intentions

"What I've heard is true, I see." Hiresh reached for Lianne's hand, brought it to his mouth, and kissed it gently.  "Your beauty may not be as famed as your mothers, but it is certainly no less.  It is a pleasure to meet you, Princess."

Lianne wished she could say the same; it would make replying much easier.  Somewhere in her mind, a voice told her that it was certainly _not_ a pleasure to meet him, and she was hesitant to lie to someone when she had no knowledge of their abilities.  "I apologize you were made to wait here," she finally said.  "Had we known you were coming, we would have been better prepared for your arrival."

Hiresh exchanged a glance with Teuku, seemingly amused.  "We did send a messenger, as I explained to your brother.  Perhaps he was lost.  I'll look into it, when I return home."

"You're not staying long, then?" Lianne asked politely, doing her very best to seem interested.

"I'm afraid I could not say how long I will be here until I have had a chance to meet with Their Majesties."

"I do not think," Liam cut in, moving to place himself beside Lianne, "They are going to be available until tomorrow morning, at the very least.  You've caught us at a very busy time."

Hiresh nodded curtly, eyes now on Liam.  "I understand, of course.  We have time.

Lianne took the chance to look the man over, now that his attention was elsewhere.  He was very tall, probably an inch or two over six feet, and at five foot three, Lianne felt dwarfed by his presence.  It was not merely his height which created this impression; everything about the man seemed large.  He had a muscular, powerful build that reminded her of her Uncle Raoul.  His face was square and clean shaven, his eyes were small and dark beneath busy black eyebrows.  _He's young, she realized, _probably not much older than I am.__

Lianne could not help but notice his clothes; she had never seen such relatively simple clothes look so extravagant.  He was dressed for riding in a shirt and breeches, but the fabric looked much finer than riding would normally warrant, and the cream colored shirt was much too light to be practical.  The blue cloak over his shoulders was much the same – the thin fabric would do little to keep out the winter chill, and was very heavily embroidered for a garment meant to be worn on the road.  A jeweled pendent hung around his neck, conspicuously outside his shirt, when it was common sense to tuck jewelry in while on horseback.  It was plain to Lianne that he had dressed to display wealth, not to travel practically.  She almost felt sorry for him – he must have nearly frozen on the ride.

When Lianne turned his eyes to Hiresh's companion, she was surprised to find that the middle-aged man was looking directly back at her, his clear grey eyes direct as he looked her over.  She flushed at the man's stare and tried to turn her attention back to the discussion between Hiresh and her brother.  Even not looking at him, she could still feel his eyes on her.

Lianne did not speak anymore, distracted and uneasy by the prince's companion.  She found herself unable to relax until a maid had come to lead the two men to their rooms, and the door to the drawing room was safely shut behind them.  The room was quiet.

The quiet did not last long.  Liam, visibly controlling himself, strode to the door and locked it, then turned slowly, eyes falling on Jasson.  Alan had grabbed him by the shoulder and escorted him to the far end of the room almost as soon as Jasson had entered, and Jasson, trained manners momentarily taking over for the instinct to protest, had remained quiet.  Now that their guests were gone, he shoved Alan's hand away, annoyed.

"What, exactly," Liam cut Jasson off as he opened his mouth to speak, "Did you think you were playing at?"

Jasson blinked, clearly not having expected the dangerous, and not very typical, tone Liam had taken with him.  "What?"

"You!  Coming barging in here in here for no reason and with no _idea_ what was going on."

"Well how was I supposed to know you were here already?" Jasson asked, defensive.  "All I knew was that they wanted to see Father and they couldn't.  It would have been rude if _someone_ hadn't come!"

"And so you brought Lianne because –"

"Please leave me out of this," Lianne interrupted, still lingering near the doorway.

"I would_ love to!" Liam snapped, smacking his hand angrily against the wall and causing Jasson and Lianne both to blink at him, startled.  "I don't want you to have anything to do with this but the two of you aren't making it any easier!"_

Alan cleared his throat, tone cautionary.  "Liam."

No one spoke.  Liam focused his eyes on a painting on the opposite wall and took a deep breath, hands unclenching slowly.  "Forget about it," he finally said, breaking the uncomfortable silence.

"Fine," said Jasson, still disgruntled.

"No," said Lianne.

Liam and Alan exchanged glances.

"You're not telling me something."

Both boys looked in her direction; neither actually met her eyes.

"It's obviously concerning me."

Silence.

"I'm not going anywhere until someone tells me."

Liam signed and looked to his brother.  "Go away."

Insulted, Jasson sputtered with indignation, apparently unable to string words together in his anger.

"Please go, Jasson." Lianne said, and when he looked at her, the pleading look in her eyes was enough to quiet his protests, though he did, on his way out, shoot Liam a heated glare.  The door slammed behind him.

Lianne sat in the nearest chair, expectant.

"Lianne…" Liam tugged an earlobe uneasily, "You know Aly's been spying for George."  Off her nod, he continued, carefully.  "The people she's with are reasonably close to Rubinyan.  Ah – that is, Rubinyan Jimajen, one of the regents for the –"

"I know who he is," Lianne said quietly.

"Right.  Well – he's been working on putting his house back in order.  He's trying to sort out the mess Oron made and form alliances with countries Oron didn't necessarily get along with."

"And?"

"Well he'd like us to be on better terms with them.  The fact that Prince Hiresh is here shows how much, he's a pretty important figure.  Imam, too, he's of a very old family."

Lianne looked at her brother blankly, still unsure where, exactly, this conversation was going.  Liam cleared his throat.

"The Prince is here for you," Alan said, apparently tired of Liam dancing around the truth.  He crossed the room and sat in a chair near Lianne's, meeting her eyes for the first time since she entered the room.  "Rubinyan's sent him here to arrange a marriage."

"Oh," said Lianne, "Now I understand."

She didn't, not really.  The concept, of course, she understood.  Marriages to form alliances weren't at all unusual.   Roald married Shinkokami to strengthen ties to the Yamani Islands, and Kalasin would marry Kaddar so the tensions between Tortall and Carthak would ease at least.  Granted, they both had gotten very lucky.  Roald and Shinkokami learned to love each other even before their wedding, and it appeared Kalasin and Kaddar were well on their way.  But this was different.

_It is not,_ Lianne scolded herself, dimly aware both boys were watching her very closely.  _Arranged marriages happen all the time._  She swallowed, chewing on the inside of her lip.  _They're just not supposed to happen to me!_

And there it was.  Lianne couldn't deny the little protesting voice in her mind; she never expected that she would be forced into marriage.  She was a younger princess, and one of the youngest of the family.  She almost certainly wasn't going to take the throne.  Politically, she shouldn't have much real value at all.

"Lianne?" Liam asked.

She blinked, shook out of her thoughts abruptly.  "I would have thought Mother and Father would have told me if they were going to promise me to someone."  To her own ears, her voice sounded faint and distant.

"They're not!" Liam rushed to say, and Lianne was vaguely aware of Alan shaking his head vehemently.

"I don't want to go to the Copper Isles," she went on, still not entirely registering the conversation.

A strong hand grabbed her shoulder and squeezed lightly, blue eyes met her own, and Liam's voice became fierce as he assured her, "You won't be."


	6. Unexpcted Visitors

**January 23, 463 H.E. – 23rd year of the reign of King Jonathan IV and Queen Thayet**

**The ****Royal****Palace****, Corus****, Tortall**

-

It was already past midday, and Jonathan and Thayet still had not been able clear any time in their schedules to meet with their unexpected guests.  So went the story.

Lianne knew otherwise.  The king and queen had been in conferences with their counselors the whole of the previous day, and had begun again just after breakfast; no one admitted it to her, but she knew perfectly well who the topic of discussion was.  On some levels, it comforted her.  Her parents weren't just sending her away to the Copper Isles for the sake of a political alliance they hadn't been looking for, and that was a relief, but not a great one.

Obviously someone thought that simply saying 'no' to Prince Hiresh would be a bad idea.  From what Lianne had heard of the monarchy in the Copper Isles, she gathered that whoever that someone was, they were probably right.  The talk on insanity in the royal family (extended or otherwise) was never passed off as rumors.  It was spoken of as fact.  Lianne did not know much about war, but she knew Tortall couldn't afford to enter another one so soon after the last peace.  Her parents had to be very careful.

Lianne was being careful too.  In her own way.  Just that morning, Jasson had found her in the private library only open to those in the royal family and those particularly close to them.  Having run from the completely opposite end of the palace in search of her, it took him long moments to catch his breath.  Between the pants for air, he had managed to tell Lianne that Prince Hiresh was inquiring around the palace for her.

So now, tucked away among bales of hay in the loft of the stable which, like the library, was only accessible by the royal family and their friends, Lianne hid.  She liked the stables; they had some of her best hiding spots.  In the winter, they were usually quite cold, which limited her options; this particular stable had generally always been the gathering spot of the idle holsters, and spells kept it very comfortable for their benefit.  She expected she'd stay at least until dinner.

As far as she could tell, it was almost three in the afternoon.  She was pretty sure that the two o'clock bell had rung quite a while ago, but at the time the hero of the book she was currently reading had been facing down a particularly threatening monster, and that had been much more interesting, at the time.

The book was no longer serving its purpose as a blessed distraction as well as it had been.  The plots had slowed, and try as she might, Lianne could not keep her mind from wandering.  She didn't want to think about the very large problem currently being given a tour of the menagerie, but she found she couldn't help it.

The biggest problem, she supposed, was that she had always taken her ability to marry someone of her own choosing for granted.  Roald and Kalasin had known for a very long time that their marriages would likely be arranged, just as Lianne and Jasson had always known that theirs would likely not.  Liam had always been debatable.  Now, faced with the idea that, even if Prince Hiresh was sent home alone with no hope of marriage, other kingdoms might one day extend a similar offer, Lianne found herself extremely put out.

She _wanted to marry for love, now that she thought about it.  It was one of the few benefits to being a younger princess, or prince for that matter.  And though she had no idea whatsoever who she eventually might pick to marry, she liked the __idea of her mystery husband._

It was something to think about.  Not 'sulk over,' as Kalasin would undoubtedly accuse, were she present.  Lianne sighed.  She wished Kalasin was with her; the boys didn't understand.

A horse's trot in the distance grew louder as it approached the stable, and then stopped just outside.  Lianne could hear a muffled conversation and crawled to the ladder as the guard on duty opened the main doors to let a rider in.  She peered down onto the ground level, watching as graying man rode in on a very familiar horse.  Overcome with annoyance, she swung her legs into the gap in the loft's floor and silently descended the ladder.

"Here to tell us about my new friends from the Isles?" she asked, arms folded across her chest as she leaned back against the ladder.

George dismounted and turned to look at her, handing the reigns off to a holster.  His face was grim, but not surprised.  "So they _have_ already arrived, then."

"Two days ago."

"I set out to warn your parents as soon as I got word – I didn't want to trust it with a messenger." The look on her face gave him pause, and he sighed, closing some of the distance between them.  "Don't be angry with me, Anne.  You know it wasn't my place to tell you anything."

Lianne softened despite herself at his use of her old childhood name, and managed a thin smile.  "I know.  Mother and Father are in a meeting right now, trying to figure out how to put him off me.  I don't think it's going very well."

"I wouldn't expect it to.  And our friends, what are they up to?"

"Jasson is supposed to be showing them around, as obnoxiously as possible, I can hope.  He's been excused from his lessons to keep the ambassadors company until they leave.  Numair's with them too, I think."

George raised an eyebrow.  "Numair?"

"Father asked him too," she explained.  "Imam is a mage – nobody's sure of how good of one."

"It just gets better and better, doesn't it?" he exhaled heavily, and then brightened a bit, offering his arm with the slightly silly, overly regal air she had come to expect from both George and his son.  "Well, your Da'll fix it, don't worry about that.  Now, accompany an old man to get something to eat – I'm famished."

-

As always, George's gift at bringing a smile to her face made Lianne feel much better, and by the time he had finished the bread and cheese she had fetched for them, the entire muddled affair didn't seem so bad at all.

They parted outside the kitchen, George on his way to find her parents and give them the few pieces of information he had that they didn't already know, and Lianne off to try and find Shinko, so she would at least not have to hide alone.

It didn't work out that way.  Halfway to the royal wing, Lianne turned a corner, and there was Hiresh, coming in her direction.  Before she had time to retreat, he spotted her, and she knew that she couldn't run.

"Princess Lianne," he said, stopping before her.  "I was just looking for you."

"Oh?" Lianne asked, doing her best to appear previously unaware of this.  "I thought my brother was showing you the animals."

"He was, but I slipped away.  I've never cared for animals."

"I love them," she said, leaping on the chance to be quietly contrary and raising her chin.  "The menagerie is one of my favorite places."

Hiresh offered her a wane smile.  "So I've gathered.  I was on my way to the stables; a servant directed me there and said that was where I might find you.  I can see he was right."  His eyes flickered to her hair, currently piled atop her head in a bun and, Lianne suspected, charmingly decorated with a few stray bits of hay.  She made no effort to remove them.

"Yes," she agreed, mentally wishing severe discomfort on the unnamed servant sometime in the near future.  "Well, I really must go change, my uncle has just arrived and I'd like to visit with him.  Excuse me."

She move to the side and stepped past him, pace brisk.  A moment later, a large hand grabbed her elbow.  Lianne turned to look back at Hiresh, and then removed her arm from his grip.

"Wait," he began, "I wanted to ask if you might show me around a bit more tomorrow.  Not that I don't appreciate Prince Jasson's tour.  He's a very – opinionated young man, and an interesting walking partner, but –" he trailed off, waiting for a response.  When he received none, he went on, "I'd like it very much if you would show me the rest of the palace, perhaps some of the city.  Would you?"

Lianne searched her brain for a reasonable excuse, and in her slight panic, found none.  On top of that, she had a growing feeling that, even if she were to have a good reason why she could not accompany him tomorrow, he would ask again the next day.  She mentally signed, resigning herself.

"As you please.  I'll meet you in the entrance hall at the ten o'clock bell.  Goodnight."

She turned to leave again, not looking back.  This time he did not stop her.

-

Normally, when Lianne wanted to track down the elusive Maera, she would leave a note on the desk in her room, where the maid was sure to find it.  Tonight, she did not waste the time, and instead waited until it was late enough that Maera would surely have returned to her room, and then went to talk to her there.

Lianne had done it before, but not in quite some time.  It took her longer than she had expected to find Maera's quarters, and by the time Lianne finally knocked on her door, she was already in bed.

When Maera answered the door, Lianne knew right away from the tired eyes blinking at her from behind blond curls that she had been sleeping.

"I'm really, really sorry to wake you, but I need a favor.  It's very important."

"What is it, Your Highness?" Maera struggled to shake the sleep from her eyes, her quiet voice drowsy.

"I need a chaperone tomorrow.  Someone I can trust.  Do you mind?"

-

_A/N: Wow!  Thank you all so much for all the positive responses!  I'm sure you all know how much good feedback makes one want to write even more._

Shayley, PsychoLioness, Lady-kitty_: Thank you!  I'm really, really glad you enjoy it._

Arabella_: I think it's a shame that when the Conte children appear in stories, they're almost always there for romance purposes, or as a 'Jon' to someone's 'Alanna'.  We know almost nothing about everyone but Roald – there's so much writers can do with them!  I'm glad you like this story, at least._

Phoenix_: I look forward to reading it!_

M'Cha_: I feel bad for Jasson, too, left out of things, but don't worry, his time will come!  As for Hiresh & Co., I am going somewhere with them (I even know where that somewhere is!) and we'll be getting there soon.  I'd by chapter 8 something big is going to change._


	7. Sightseeing

**January 24, 463 H.E. – 23rd year of the reign of King Jonathan IV and Queen Thayet**

**Corus****, Tortall**

-

As she had expected, Liam did not take the news that Lianne had reluctantly agreed to show Hiresh around very well at all.  Neither, not surprisingly, did Jasson, though he expressed his displeasure with much more colorful words than their older brother had.  Alan hadn't said anything.  In fact, the last three days he had been uncharacteristically quiet.  This was worrisome; a quiet Alan was dangerous.

Now walking silently through the portrait gallery with Hiresh at her side and Maera, who had agreed to chaperone the tour after some persuasion (and a promise on Lianne's part that she wouldn't have to actually speak with the prince), a few steps behind, Lianne could do nothing but curse herself for not being able to see a way out of this extremely unpleasant tour, and occasionally turn her eyes to the ceiling, praying for a god, _any _god, to do her this one teeny favor and speed time up just for the rest of the day.

The tour was going well, despite Lianne's better efforts.  Knowing women were expected to behave in a certain manner on the Copper Isles, she had gone out of her way to turn up in the entrance hall that morning as inappropriately dressed as she could possibly manage.  With anyone else, Lianne would have worn one of her better dresses and probably would have fiddled with her hair, as well.  For Hiresh, she chose the plainest shirt, cloak, and breeches she could possibly find and tied her hair back carelessly.  For riding, the outfit would have been fine; privately she hoped that the prince would be offended that she would wear it while in his company.  Maera was dressed much more appropriately.  Lianne hoped Hiresh noticed.

If he had been displeased, he hadn't said anything, only greeting her with that smile that always made her so uncomfortable and offered his arm.  She pretended not to notice, and led him towards the pages' wing, hands in her pockets. Three hours later, Lianne was still doing her best to seem contrary, and Hiresh was still completely ignoring her efforts.  It was very frustrating.

"I wish I had known it was such a busy time, here," Hiresh said, breaking the quiet suddenly.  "In many cities, this time of year is much more peaceful."

Lianne forced what she hoped was an apologetic smile.  "Corus is not many cities."

"I can see that," Hiresh answered, eyes on something ahead of them.

Lianne looked up.  Someone was approaching from the far end of the hall at a casual pace.  As the figure drew closer, she could identify him as Davis, one of Liam's old year-mates and friends.  Lianne bit her lower lip to keep from smirking.

Since the tour had begun, Lianne and Hiresh were interrupted at regular intervals by Liam, Alan, and every so often, even Roald's friends.  Lianne wasn't entirely sure who had pulled _them_ into it, but she suspected Shinko.  Now Davis, not among the more subtle of their visitors thus far, made a show of noticing Lianne, and drew near her quickly.

"Lianne!" he said, greeting her as an old friend, which they weren't.  This was another common thread among Lianne's many 'surprise visitors'.  All had greeted her as if they were close friends, despite the fact that she had only met many of them a few times in passing.  After the first few instances, Lianne took the hint and played along.  "I wasn't expecting to see you here.  How are you?"

"Oh, Davis, I haven't seen you in ages.  Very well, thank you."  For Davis she managed a large smile as he kissed her hand.  

All these encounters generally went the same way, and Lianne expected a polite inquiry about Hiresh to follow shortly, and then feigned interest on how he found Corus.  As near as she could figure, these visits were either to provide Lianne a rescue if things had gone sour, or to try to set Hiresh on guard against the stream on knights who all seemed to be on quiet friendly terms with the princess.  If Liam's intention was the latter, it didn't seem to be working.  Hiresh maintained his well-mannered demeanor and was always annoyingly courteous to the visitors.

Living up to expectations, Davis turned his attention to Hiresh, a bit stiffer, now.  "I'm sorry, I don't believe we've met."

"This is Prince Hiresh Rukhev of the Copper Isles," Lianne supplied, turning to Hiresh, "May I present Sir Davis of Milis Forge, a very good friend of my family's."

"A pleasure," Davis said, bowing.

Hiresh nodded. "Likewise, I am sure.  We would love to stay and chat with you, but the Princess was just showing me to your temples, and I admit, I am very much looking forward to seeing them." He placed a hand on Lianne's back, causing her to tense, and began to lead her gently away.  This unsettled her, previously he would talk with whoever approached them in the hallway until Lianne or their visitor ended the conversation.  "Good afternoon."

Startled, Lianne looked over her shoulder, unsure of how to react.  Davis and Maera both stared back at her, eyes wide and worried expressions on their faces.  Davis visibly changed from shock to anger, and took a few steps in Lianne's direction, only stopping when she shook her head slightly.  Maera passed him, following Lianne and Hiresh at a slight distance.  When Davis set his jaw and set off in the other direction, Lianne turned her head forward again, glancing sideways at Hiresh.  He seemed not to have noticed her silent exchange, and had not yet removed his hand.  Quickening her pace, Lianne removed it for him, unsure of what to say, and therefore not saying anything for quite some time.

-

Hiresh did not mention the incident with Davis, and neither did Lianne, though she did not stop thinking about it at all.  Though she hadn't been planning on it, she did lead him to the temples, hoping that at least there the murals and dedications would distract him long enough for her to plan a reasonably escape.

For whatever reason, no more of Liam's visitors came.  As near as Lianne could figure, Davis has gone straight to her brother or Alan and reported Hiresh's abrupt end to their conversation.  She found herself wishing more would come; anything to interrupt his attention on her would be welcome.

The longer they walked together, the more personal questions Hiresh posed to Lianne, and the more uncomfortable she grew with his interest in her.  It wasn't that she generally _minded sharing information about herself, and she didn't see how telling Hiresh her hobbies, or what types of books she liked to read, would do any harm.  It was how he conducted these conversations that unnerved her._

Lianne would assume that anyone asking that type of information would be looking for some common interest what might liven up the conversation.  It didn't seem to be the case with Hiresh; he would ask questions, but never comment on her answers.  When she told him a few of the hobbies she enjoyed, he did not share any of his own in return.  It struck her as odd.  She couldn't put her finger on why.

Thankfully, some things were in her favor that day.  It seemed Hiresh had not lied when he said he was looking forward to see the temples.  Lianne had led him to the Temple District, just outside the walls of the palace, and for the first time his unshakable polite interest in all around him gave way to genuine enthusiasm.  It was the architecture, it seemed, that he had wished to view.  The temple dedicated to Mithros, with its smooth black stone inlaid with precious metals and high, elegantly decorated arches, which particularly caught his attention.  Crossing the threshold of the temple, Lianne thought a prayer of thanks, she was not sure to whom, for the reprieve from his attentions.

"Our temples are very nice, too, of course," he was saying, though she wasn't entirely paying attention.  "But we have not has as much time to build them as you have had, here.  It took a good deal of time to bring down the natives' temples, as well.  We wanted to use the same sites."

Lianne nodded as if she understood, lingering behind him with Maera.  _Maybe one day the native gods will punish you for that, she thought, sincerely hoping the idea did not show on her face.  _I hope it's soon.__

His eyes fell on a large mural occupying an entire wall, and he studied it for several minutes.  "Princess," he said, beckoning her.  "I'm curious.  What is this depicting?"

With effort, she did not sigh heavily as she moved to stand beside her, looking at the wall.  Lianne knew the mural, of course; it was very well known, among the many temple murals in the city.  

"It depicts the Old King's conquest of the surrounding lands.  My grandfather had it commissioned after the Old King died."  She pointed, drawing his attention to a vast section of the wall painted in shades of yellows and browns.  "This is the Great Desert – over here is Barzun."

"You there," Hiresh was no longer looking at the mural, or Lianne, but at Maera, who froze under his gaze.  "Girl.  Fetch a priest, I wish to speak to one.  _Now,thank you."_

Maera, who had hesitated a moment, turned and went.  Lianne stared at Hiresh, almost too startled to be angry.

"I hope you don't mind," He had seen her look and apparently grievously misinterpreted it.  "I have some questions I'd like to ask about the temple."

Lianne unclenched her jaw and took a breath.  "Her name is Maera," she offered, tone as even as she could keep it.

"What?  Oh.  Yes, yes.  Of course."  Hiresh had already returned his attention to the mural, and waved one hand dismissively without looking away.

Lianne did not say any more, eyes also on the wall before them, though she no longer looked at it.  _Mother was right, she realized now, recalling advice Thayet had given a long time before.  _You can learn a _lot_ about a person by how they treat the people who don't matter.__

Lianne did not like what she had learned.

-

Thinking about it, Lianne would not, as a whole, classify the day as a success.  She supposed there was a possibility that sometime in her past she had been more thankful just to be safely in alone and in bed, but she certainly couldn't recall any.  

The tour had seemed endless.  Every time she thought that there was nothing else Hiresh would ask to see, he'd think of something new.  The temples had taken the longest; perhaps the temples in the Copper Isles really weren't very nice at all, for he had wanted to see _all of the ones in the Temple District.  Lianne's feet and back ached terribly, and she wasn't entirely sure Maera would ever allow herself in the same room with Hiresh again.  __I can't blame her, she thought, staring up at the ceiling._

Alone in the dark, Lianne had time to think.  That morning, as she had been getting dressed, she had tried to make the best of the day ahead.  She didn't really _know Hiresh, she had reasoned.  There was always the chance that he wouldn't be completely terrible, and that she might come out of the experience liking him a little more._

Now, having spent the entire day with him, Lianne found she liked Hiresh even _less_ than when she had begun.  The affair with Maera was on strike against him.  The rational part of Lianne understood that in the Cooper Isles, they kept slaves, and generally considered the lower classes inferior; it was the rest of her brain that had objected so strongly.  Maera wasn't there as a servant, she was there as a chaperone.  She wasn't _supposed_ to leave Lianne alone, and there really wasn't any call for Hiresh to snap at her the way he did.  Lianne didn't like it.

She didn't like his attitude, either.  He was very polite.  So polite that, had Lianne caught him checking a textbook on decorum between sentences, she wouldn't have been entirely surprised.  It was as if he had memorized the rules of polite conversation.  He asked questions, but only superficial ones, nothing that could be considered even vaguely improper to ask.  He always bowed just the right amount, never less than was required, but certainly never more.  He smiled readily, never too wide or too thinly.  Anyone who met him would likely think him a model of propriety.  Lianne didn't like that either.  She couldn't put her finger on why, exactly, but something about his impeccable manners struck her as false.

It was also extremely frustrating that, despite her best efforts to argue with him whenever the opportunity presented itself, and generally not seem very agreeable at all, Hiresh did not seem to think at all less of her at the end of the day than he did at the beginning.  If she had only managed to exasperate him _once, she perhaps would have felt better.   But then, Lianne didn't know much about what it would be liked to be married to someone from the Copper Isles.  Maybe he intended to marry her for the alliance, and then shut her up somewhere and never have to deal with her.  The idea made sense to Lianne, but didn't comfort her in the least._

Worst come to worst, she had at least done her part for the day.  Next time he wanted to wander around for hours, well, someone else could to it.  As far as she was concerned, Lianne was officially done with Hiresh Rukhev.


	8. In Hiding

**January 25, 463 H.E. – 23rd year of the reign of King Jonathan IV and Queen Thayet**

**Corus****, Tortall**

-

Not that anyone actually _told _her, as that would make Lianne's life much too easy, but apparently Jonathan and Thayet still hadn't decided on a course of action.  The delay was making her nervous.  The longer Hiresh was around, the better a chance she would have of running into him again, something _not_ ranked very highly among her daily priorities.

Unwilling to trust luck, as it hadn't been helping much these past few days, she had decided last night before going to sleep that it would really be for the best if she made herself scarce to avoid any other chance encounters.  It wasn't bad at all, eating in the kitchen, rather than with whichever siblings or friends made an appearance at breakfast.  Roald had arranged it so that Hiresh and Lord Teuku would find their breakfast waiting in the morning in the common area between their two rooms, but the public dinning rooms were public for everyone, and the chance that the two might show up kept Lianne well away.

It was what to do with herself after breakfast that was the problem.  The stables were obviously out; Hiresh was onto her, there.  For the same reason, she didn't dare stay anywhere else someone might suspect, servant or otherwise.  That didn't leave her with many options.  Finally, she settled on hiding where Hiresh wasn't likely to go of his own accord: the menagerie.  Daine had been more than happy to lend the small office she kept there to Lianne for the day, and promised to make sure Hiresh didn't come anywhere near her.  Lianne wasn't entirely sure how she would accomplish this, but figured it probably had something to do with the animals, and that she was better off not knowing, in the long run.

Daine's office really was very nice.  She didn't use it often, usually only when a new animal had arrived and Daine had to reorganize which exhibits went where.  The menagerie had been Daine's domain for as long as Lianne could remember.  Apparently once it was on the smaller side, and very unfriendly for the animals, who 'hated the cages with a passion,' Daine had told her.  Lianne wasn't old enough to remember it that way.  Now it was much bigger and, she always thought, quite impressive.  The animals were not kept separate, but in much, much larger pens designed to hold several species from the same geographical area.  The pens themselves were works of art, through Lianne had _no_ idea whatsoever how Daine had managed them.  They were designed to look exactly like the animal's native habitats, and allowed visitors to see not only the native animals, but the native plant life, too.  It was one of Lianne's favorite places in the entire castle and lately, knowing Hiresh wasn't exceptionally fond of it, she found herself liking it even more.

The office had one large window looking outside, and Lianne had pulled a chair up to it.  She was seated there when the door behind her opened, then shut again.  For a moment, Lianne was afraid to turn around, fearful that somehow, despite all her careful avoidance, Hiresh had found her again.  She did not relax until Liam stepped into her view and leaned against the window frame, clearly a bit awkward.

"Daine told me you were here.  I think she figured I was safe enough."

Lianne shrugged noncommittally, turning her attention back to her book.

He sighed.  "You're still mad at me."

"Shouldn't I be?" She asked, still not looking at him.  "You _don't_ tell me about Rukhev until you have absolutely have to, you scold me like I'm a little girl when you find out I agreed to show him around because I had _no choice_, and then you send your friends after me all day like bad spies."

"I know for a fact you told Alan you were glad for the distraction," he said, defensive.

Lianne snapped her book shut in exasperation, glaring at him.  "That isn't the point!  Liam, I'm not a little girl anymore, I can take care of myself."

"Then why are you hiding here, alone?  I wouldn't call this taking care of _anything."_

She glowered at him and moved to open up her book again, set on ignoring him until he went away.

Liam reached forward, grabbing her hand gently to stop the motion.  When she looked up to glare again, his expression was apologetic.  "I'm sorry.  I know I haven't been thinking very clearly the last few days –"

"Understatement," Lianne snapped.

"But I don't mean to be terrible, I promise," he went on, undeterred.  "I wish I could explain it, but I don't think I could make you understand.  I don't want you near him, Lianne.  I don't trust him, and you're the only baby sister I have."

The resolve that had been slowly fading came back full force, and she pulled her hands away sharply.  "I am _not_ a baby anymore!  This is the whole problem, right here."

"No," he said, standing and pacing a few steps, arms folded uneasily.  "You're not a baby.  But you _are_ my baby sister.  And you will_ be– no, let me finish."  _

He held up a hand, and Lianne shut her mouth, still annoyed, but holding the vehement objection on the tip of her tongue until he had finished.

"Thank you.  You will be my baby sister until we're both old and grey and senile."

Lianne sighed and shut her book again, much more quietly this time.  The argument between them was not a new one, though usually they danced around addressing the real problem, and bickered over whatever incident had brought it up again.

"You can't look after me forever, Liam," she told him.

He shook his head.  "I can't.  But for now, let me?  There's a lot about men you don't know yet.  You'll learn one day; I'd rather Hiresh not be the one to educate you."

Though she knew this argument would have to be settled one day, soon if she wanted to keep her sanity, Lianne decided to let it go for the time being and nodded.  _He's terrible at showing it, she told herself,__ but he means well, at least._

"You and I are going to need to have a very long conversation, once this has settled down."

Liam nodded and pulled her to her feet.  "We will.  For now, stop waiting around all by yourself for something to happen.  Alan and I are going down into the city.  Hide with us."

She smiled, content to shelve the argument so long as he knew it wasn't over yet, and let him lead her out.

**-**

"Ah, yes," Alan said, nodding wisely.  "Dress fittings.  Very hazardous, I've heard.  You'll need to be careful with those."

Truth be told, Lianne honestly couldn't remember how they had gotten around to talking about the preparations for Kalasin's wedding, but she was glad for the reprieve from more serious subject matter.

"Don't laugh!" she warned him, trying her very hardest to keep a straight face (and failing abysmally).  "It's not as boring as it sounds you know.  Well – no – it _is_ boring, but there's pins and measures and much too much fabric and if you move even a little bit the whole thing goes to pieces and you have to start all over again.  It's a total nightmare, especially if you aren't with a very good dressmaker."

"Yours is a trying life indeed."

She sniffed indignantly.  "It doesn't matter what you think, anyway.  When it comes down to it, I can wear armor; I've done it plenty of times before.  You could _never manage a gown.  So I win."_

Alan took this as a personal insult.  "You do not win!" He turned to Liam, flustered.  "Tell her she doesn't win."

Liam held up his hands in front of him.  "I have nothing to do with this."

"Have you ever worn a gown?" Lianne asked.

"…No."

"_Will_ you ever wear a gown?"

"_No_."

She sat back in her chair, stretching her hands out before her and then folding them behind her head, expression smug.  "Then there's not much evidence for you, is there?  I win."

"I can't argue with you like this," Alan objected.  "You're being completely illogical!" 

"You concede?" Her smile grew.  "I win again."

Alan stood, shaking his head in frustration.  "You're impossible.  I'm getting another drink."

"I'd like another lemonade!" She called after him, enjoying the rude gesture he turned to make in her direction tremendously.

Lianne loved The Cherry Tree; it was one of her favorite restaurants.  Unfortunately, it was also one she could only visit in very specific company.

'Anne, my girl,' George had explained to her once, 'Folks in the Tree follow their own set of rules, sometimes.'

'They don't follow the law, do they, Uncle George?' At 8 years old, Lianne had considered herself very knowledgeable on such things.

'Oh, they follow the law,' he said, tweaking her nose. 'Just not your father's.  You don't come here unless I'm with you, understand?  Not ever.'

Eventually, that restriction had been extended to Alan and Alianne, when she had still been in Corus.  Technically, it also extended to Thom, but if ever ate in the less than reputable restaurant, Lianne never knew about it.  She also had never discovered who, exactly, George knew that kept his family and their guests safe (and, just as importantly, anonymous) inside the Tree, but she was thankful for whoever it was.  The chance to relax and let manners slide for a few hours was nice; so was the anonymity.  Above all, though, there wasn't a better spot to hide in the city.  The number of people who knew Lianne frequented the restaurant could be counted on one hand.  She often wished she could stay all the time.

But she couldn't, and she knew it.  She also knew, though she hesitated to admit it to herself, that it was _extremely unlikely that she wouldn't at least see Hiresh again before he left the palace, and only slightly less unlikely that she wouldn't have to have a conversation with him.  _I suppose Liam might be right_, she thought.  _Hiding and hoping he doesn't find me isn't doing much – __

Liam touched her wrist, and Lianne blinked, pulled from her thoughts.

"Stop," he said.  "Don't brood."

She offered a slightly sheepish smile.

Liam removed his hand, though his eyes remained fixed on her face, which she suspected must have given her away.  "Mother and Father will work it out."

"I wish I thought so," Lianne admitted, setting her elbow on the table and propping her chin in her hand.  "But they've been shut away arguing for almost four days.  It's not terribly reassuring."

"Actually, the term I heard was 'loudly disagreeing'," Alan said, setting two drinks down on the table and taking his seat again.  "We _are_ talking about the great debate, yeah?  Relax.  They know what they're going to do."

Liam nodded.  "It's just how they're going to do it they're having a problem with.  All we have to do is wait."

"I'm tired of waiting," Lianne muttered.

"That would be the problem with diplomacy," Alan said, taking a drink before he continued.  "It's _very boring.  Liam and I, we're men of a very high intellect, you see.  Went and got our shields, and now we don't have to worry about all that negotiation business.  War happens, we kill stuff, and we're done.  It's an excellent system."_

"I'm sure your mother would love to hear you say that."

He made a face.  "Oh, she'd die laughing.  We'd better not repeat it to her.  For her health."

"I'll make it a point not to.  For your health."

"For which I thank you."  Alan set his mug down, grinning in her direction.  "And tell you what; I'll solve this whole marriage problem for you, too."

Liam raised a skeptical eyebrow.  "This'll be good."

"Now, Lianne," Alan held a hand to his chest.  "As my burning passion for you is well documented –" ("And mocked," Liam broke in, receiving an elbow to the side for his trouble.) "Be quiet, no one's talking to you.  As I was saying, as my burning passion for you is well documented, tomorrow I will very publicly sweep down upon you in the courtyard, fall to one knee, and beg you most humbly to marry me.  We will thereafter rush _immediately to your parents for their blessing, which they will give, conveniently not having spoken to dear Hiresh just yet.  Then, of course, they simply won't be able to accept Hiresh's proposal, unwilling to break their youngest daughter's heart.  He'll return to the Isles heartbroken, you'll have a free pass, and I will greatly enjoy being envied by young lads far and wide until our inevitable, messy parting."_

Liam and Lianne both stared at him, though for completely different reasons.

Alan looked from one to the other.  "What?"

"Say that again," Liam demanded, eyes sharp.

"Well, for one thing, I don't remember most of it," Alan began, looking at his friend strangely.  "And for another, Jasson really is a terrible influence on all of you.  I'm not serious!"

With a shake of his head, Liam looked from Alan to Lianne, an odd expression crossing his face.  "That's not what I mean.  Alan – that's – it's a good idea."

"You're mad!" Lianne stared at her brother, trying not to laugh.  "It's not at all."

"It needs to be thought out." He admitted, rapping his knuckles on the table in excitement.  "Trust me.  This will work."

-

_A/N: One or two of you might recall me saying, a few chapters ago, that by the end of chapter 8, something big was going to happen.  Well, I lied.  Not on purpose, I promised!  Originally, certain things that will be appearing next chapter were originally planned for this one; as it happened, both the exchange in Daine's office and the entire conversation between Lianne, Liam, and Alan turned out much longer than I had planned.  With the added scenes, the chapter was double the length that they usually are, so I thought it would be better to separate the two.  As it is, this is already the longest chapter!  Don't worry: something big is coming.  In fact, a good deal of it is already written, and all I have to do are work out a few details and polish the scenes up a bit.  I would expect by tomorrow, at the _very_ latest.  Which brings me to…_

Shale_: It's not me; it's quite honestly the story.  The words are popping up into my head faster than I can get them down, and my biggest problem has been stringing the big moments together before I lose them.  (And, I should also note, chapters one through three were completely finished before I posted a thing, and four, five and six only needed a few minor edits.  I'm not _that_ fast =D) And by the way…_

_The fact that people generally dislike Hiresh already is such a compliment.  Thus far, other than some typical Royal Rudeness, he hasn't actually _done_ _anything beyond squicking out (or pissing off, as the case may be) our protagonists__, so I'm going to take the fact that he's apparently creepy as a sign that I'm doing something right.  Anyway.__

Vanilla Fox_: Trickster's Choice is Tamora's latest book, staring Alianne, Alanna's daughter.  If you haven't read it, I expect certain parts of my story are probably a little confusing.  I'd really recommend getting a copy; TC is a little different from some of Tamora's past books, but _very_ good.  (Also, I don't know where you're more likely to see my answer, so I'll be emailing this, as well.)_

_And as always, thank you _**SO MUCH**_ to all the reviewers.  It's so encouraging to see you all coming back and reviewing again.  Things are going to start to move very soon – I hope you like where they go. =D_


	9. The Plan

The man standing guard outside Jonathan's study really had tried to keep those not invited out of the meeting taking place inside, but between Liam, Alan, and Lianne, he was greatly outranked, and eventually overruled.

The conversation, which seemed to be on the verge of breaking into shouting (again, Lianne suspected) died as soon as the trio entered the room, and Lianne, the first through the door, found more pairs of eyes on her than she had expected.

Jonathan was present, of course.  He was seated as his desk; Thayet had pulled a chair up beside him.  Scattered about the room was almost every other renowned figure in court.  Alanna was seated in a chair near the door; George was leaning on the wall behind her, and Myles of Olau, Jonathan's spymaster, had settled on a small couch nearby.  Buri occupied the other seat on the couch, looking particularly thunderous; Raoul had pulled the rooms only other chair up beside her.  Both Gareth and Numair were standing.  Gareth had stopped mid pace near the bookshelf while Numair hovered near the large picture window set into the far wall, arms folded across his chest.  The surprise on the faces of those now staring directly at Lianne faded, replaced by various degrees of annoyance or barely hidden amusement.

Jonathan was the first to speak.  "Interesting.  I don't _remember_ asking any of you to come."

That was when it dawned on Lianne that they probably should have given their approach a bit more thought than they did.  The thirty minutes it took them to get from the Tree to Jonathan's office was _possibly, in retrospect, not enough time._

"Er – well," she began, aware that there really wasn't any going back, now that she was already in the study.  "I wanted to – talk to you.  About Prince Hiresh."

"Prince Hiresh who we haven't spoken to you about yet?" Thayet asked, eyebrows raised.  "Who you should know nothing about?"

Liam, standing to her right, suddenly became very interested in a spot on the wall.

"Yup," Lianne said, after a deep breath and a quick internal debate over whether there was any safe answer to that question.

"Oh," Jonathan leaned forward to rest his arms on the desk before him, fingers interlaced and expression nonchalant enough that Lianne knew she was going to be in very big trouble later.  "Well, then?"

She glanced to each side, looking for help and finding none.  Liam was still staring innocently into space and Alan appeared to be having a silent conversation with his mother, who did _not look pleased._

"I just wanted to say that, uhm, that I – can't marry him."

Her father's mouth thinned slightly, and if he was trying at _all to keep the sarcasm out of his voice, Lianne couldn't tell.  "Well, that changes everything."_

She huffed in exasperation, which apparently amused both Myles and Buri terribly.  "And I have we really good reason why I can't, too."__

This caught the general attention of the room; Numair stopped looking out the window uncomfortably, Alanna stopped glaring at her son, and Liam stopped pretending he was somewhere else entirely.

"Which is?" asked Thayet.

"I _can't marry him," Lianne explained, smiling brightly, "because Alan and I have already been engaged for four months and there'd be all _sorts_ of problems if you forced us to break it off!"_

For a moment there was silence in the room, during which those gathered mostly looked at one another and tried to make sense of this new information.

And then, there was chaos.

"_What?" Alanna demanded, turning in her chair to look at her husband for confirmation._

"Don't be ridiculous!" Thayet stared at her daughter, speaking over Alanna entirely.  "You are not."

"Did you know about this?" Buri murmured to Raoul as Myles shifted and covered a smile with his hand.

"What's all this, then?" George asked, eyeing Alan dangerously.

"It _would be their children," Gareth was telling Numair._

"_Stop_." Jonathan rapped sharply on his desk, ending the confused, overlapping chatter quickly.  He looked at Lianne and Alan sharply.  "Explain yourselves."

"We're not really!" Alan was quick to assure the room, holding his hands up defensively.  "It's just what we're going to _say_."

Lianne turned to Liam, muttering, "I didn't put that very well, did I?" and receiving a shake of his head in reply.

Jonathan pinched the bridge of his nose, exhaling heavily, before exchanging a look with Thayet, whose mouth was pursed tightly.

"If you'll all excuse us for a moment," he said, rising.  He crossed the room to the door, Thayet right behind him, and took Lianne by the shoulder.  Lianne didn't argue, and allowed herself to be led from the room.

As Thayet shut the door behind them, Lianne could hear Raoul asking, "Could _anyone please explain to me what just happened?"_

-

Her parents were very quiet as they made their way down the hall to Thayet's study, which was a bit smaller and not at all suited for large meetings.  Jonathan deposited Lianne in a chair when they entered; he did not sit himself, and instead stood looking down at her with his arms folded and his eyebrows raised.  Thayet locked the door and joined them a moment later.

"I think," her father told her, seriously, "you had better start from the beginning."

"Alan and Liam came up with the idea," Lianne said, "that you could tell Prince Hiresh that Alan and I already been betrothed for months, and you had given your word that I could marry him.  That way you wouldn't have to come up with a political reason to say no, and you wouldn't be personally insulting him, either."

"And by the way," she couldn't resist adding in the quiet that followed her explanation, "thank you so much for _telling_ me about all this in the first place.  I really appreciate it."

Jonathan sighed and turned away to take a seat.  "We had reasons to not tell you, Lianne."

Thayet sat also, adding, "But we probably _should_ have told you, anyway."

"If you forget we didn't tell you," Jonathan offered, looking at her, "We'll forget that you found out on your own anyway, and we won't ask how.  Agreed?"

Lianne nodded, fully aware this arrangement was really much better for her than it was for them.

"Now, about your plan." Jonathan stroked his beard absently, considering the idea.  Finally, he admitted, "It's not a bad one.  But I don't think it would work."

"Why not?  It's a _good plan, you must see that!"_

"Generally it is, but you have to realize, if you and Alan had been engaged, Rubinyam would have known about it and probably wouldn't have bothered sending the prince in the first place.  What reason could we have had to not formally announce it?"

Lianne hadn't thought of this, as though she tried to search her brain for an answer, she could find none.  "Oh," she sighed.

"Kalasin." Thayet said, expression thoughtful.  She spoke slowly, as if only voicing the words as they formed in her mind.  "We could say that we didn't want to…distract from her wedding.  …And that we were planning on keeping the engagement a secret until after she was married.  So neither of the girls would overshadow the other."

Jonathan sat back, mulling this over.  After a long pause, he nodded slowly.  "That could work.  We'd have to plan it out properly before with met with Rukhev and Imam; the right people would need the same story, in case they double checked.  But it could definitely work."

Lianne beamed.

-

**January 26, 463 H.E. – 23rd year of the reign of King Jonathan IV and Queen Thayet**

**Corus****, Tortall**

**-**

Breakfast that morning has been a very tense affair.

As Jonathan and Thayet had ultimately agreed to go along with Liam and Alan's plan, both boys had just managed to escape serious trouble with their respective sets of parents.  Still, Jonathan had been cross with Liam most of the previous evening, and Alan was wisely staying well away from Alanna.

The boys had offered to take Lianne into the city again, hoping to keep her mind off the meeting which commenced in Jonathan's study immediately after breakfast.  Lianne had refused, preferring to stay indoors.  Liam and Alan had gone off alone, promising to stop in and see her when they got back.

Truth be told, the last few days had left her mentally exhausted; she felt as if she could sleep for a week and still be tired.  If Jasson hadn't found her on her way back to her room, she probably wouldn't have left ventured further than the chair in front of her fire for the rest of the day.  Because he did, Lianne spent most of the morning wandering the palace with him, glad for the company.

He had, of course, been informed of the plan, and was very vocal about his mixed emotions regarding it.  On the one hand, Hiresh was set to be good and gone, and that, Jasson had assured Lianne, was just fine by him.  On the other, he was absolutely _appalled that his sister would even joke about being married to Alan._

'You're only encouraging him, you know!' he had exclaimed between phrases not generally suitable for polite company.  'He's _never_ going to act like a normal person around you now.'

Lianne knew it, and when she eventually confessed to Jasson that comparatively, she didn't mind, he had accused her of turning everyone around him mad and stalked off, disgusted.  Left to her own devices, Lianne returned to her room and remained there for the rest of the morning.

It was a little after midday when someone knocked on her door.  Expecting Liam, Lianne opened the door quickly.  Standing in the hall was Hiresh.

"Prince Hiresh," she greeted him, when the shock had worn off.  "I thought you were in a meeting."

He looked at her seriously, hands clasped behind his back.  "Please, you may call me just Hiresh."

Lianne swallowed, uncomfortable.  "That would not be very proper."

"May I come in?  I'd like to discuss something with you."

"That would not be very proper either."  Lianne stepped fully outside her room, shutting the door behind her.  "I don't mind speaking here."

He frowned at her briefly, possibly for the first time since they had met, that she could recall. "I…presume that you have known why I came here since I arrived."

Lianne hesitated, but nodded.

"I have just been informed that you are, in fact, already engaged.  You knew why I was here – why didn't you say anything?"

"It – it was a secret." Lianne answered, wishing desperately to end the conversation and go back inside.

His eyes darkened and he shook his head slightly.  "I have met this boy.  He is beneath you."

"He's not!" Lianne said, defensive.  "His mother comes from one of Tortall's oldest families."

"And his father?"

Lianne didn't reply.

Again he frowned, the movement more pronounced this time.  Lianne could not help but notice that other than sometimes moving his head, Hiresh was standing completely still.  It unnerved her.

"I want you to marry me."

His announcement briefly stunned her into silence; she hadn't expected to him to be so frank.

"Why?" she managed to ask, once her voice had returned to her.

The look he gave her was not unkind; it reminded her of how adults often looked at children who asked foolish questions.

"You're beautiful," he said.  "And you would bring a strong alliance to the Copper Isles."

"Is that all?" Lianne asked.

"I'm not in love with you, if that's what you mean.  You've obviously been spoiled by your parents; it's completely disgraceful that you're allowed to wear men's clothing and study weapons, such behavior would never hold in the Copper Isles, but I have heard of Tortall's unfortunate leniency for such things, so I suppose I shouldn't be entirely surprised.  I know you have manners somewhere in there, despite your being purposely rude to me." Hiresh smiled indulgently at her, completely ignoring the outrage that Lianne knew _must_ have shown on her face.  "I'm not worried.  These are habits, not flaws.  They can be broken."

She took a deep breath, literally biting her tongue for a moment to control her anger before she spoke.  "In the future, you may find, when proposing marriage, that that is _not the ideal way to win a woman's affections."_

"Your answer is no, then?"

Lianne set her jaw, chin raised just a touch.  "It is."

He sighed, looking at her with something close to remorse in his eyes.  "I wish you would reconsider.  I would not be a bad husband.  You would learn to like me well enough, after a time.  You would want for nothing."

"I've given you my answer."

Hiresh inclined his head to her slightly, almost as if he could not bring himself to nod.  "I'm sorry you feel that way."

"Good day, Prince Hiresh."  Lianne turned to go back inside her room.

Much later, when she regained consciousness, she would think herself stupid for having done so.

As it were, however, the dagger hilt which connected suddenly with her temple dropped her instantly to the ground, and she did not think anything for a very long time.

-

_A/N: And there you have it, I told you it was on the way.  This chapter marks the end of what I've been mentally referring to as 'the setup' – more to come very soon, I promise!_

M'Cha_: Maera is pronounced 'MAY-ruh'.  The e is meant to harden the vowel it immediately follows, which is why it's in the middle, rather than at the end, which would cause the name to be pronounced 'mah-RAY'.  And, I'm glad you like it!  I used the name once a long time ago in an original story for English class, and I've always loved being able to stick it to some of my other stories, when I can.  As for Hiresh, don't worry; we'll get the whole story eventually =D_

_To my faithful reviewers – thank you, thank you, thank you!  You encourage me more than you know._


	10. Elsewhere

**Unknown**

-

When Lianne opened her eyes, she knew right away something wasn't right.  For one thing, the room she found herself in was definitely not anywhere in the palace.

She stood slowly, head spinning as she moved, and looked around.  The room, made entirely of smooth silvery-grey stone, wasn't very big.  This didn't concern her much, but the fact that there were no discernable doors or windows did.  No, this definitely was not a room she had ever been in before.  And for some reason, once she got out, not one that Lianne wagered she would want to see again.

Getting out, however, was apparently going to be a problem.  Lianne couldn't _see_ any lines indicating an exit anywhere in the stone.  It seemed she'd have to try and feel for them.

Starting in the nearest corner, she ran her hands along the smooth surface, feeling for any bumps or crevices.  By the time she had reached the mid point of the second wall, she was beginning to grow discouraged.

"You're not going to find a way out," said a voice from behind her.  "There isn't one."

Lianne turned.  A small girl of about six stood directly across from her, large brown eyes fixed on Lianne and a small smile tugging at her lips.

"Were you there a moment ago?" Lianne asked, unsure.  She was quite sure that she would have noticed someone else being in the room with her; there was certainly nothing for the little girl to have hid behind.

"I was," the girl nodded, her thin blond bangs falling into her eyes.  "You just couldn't see me."

Lianne thought about this.  She supposed it was possible.  "Oh.  Am I dreaming, then?"

The little girl nodded.

"That makes sense I suppose," Lianne said, sliding down the wall until she was sitting cross legged on the floor.  "Though…I've never dreamed anything like this before."

"No, you haven't." The girl closed the small distance between them, sitting on the floor just in front of Lianne in the same fashion.  "You and I need to talk."

"Are you a god?" Lianne asked.  She had a vague impression that it was probably for the best that she was dreaming after all; she certainly couldn't imagine being so nonchalant about something like this when she was awake.

"Nope," the girl grinned at her, exposing a missing tooth.  "No gods this time.  Just me."

"And who are you?"

The girl waved a hand dismissively.  "Nobody important.  We're here to talk about you."

Lianne shrugged.  "So talk."

"It's time for you to grow up now.  You have to stand, even if nobody else does." 

 "I don't understand."

"You will eventually, if you pay enough attention."

"Are you being obtuse on purpose?"  Lianne frowned at the little girl.  "Please don't.  My head hurts and I've never had a dream conversation like _this_ before."

The girl laughed, eyes dancing.  "All right, but only because you asked really nicely.  Stop hiding.  It's childish.  You're wasting your potential; you need to stand up and face your problems, not just hope they leave you alone.  They won't."

"I'm not wasting my potential!" Lianne said.  "Well – I don't think I am.  I'm not _entirely_ sure what it is just yet, actually, but I don't think I'm _wasting it."_

"Well, you are," sniffed the girl, apparently offended that someone would doubt her advice.  "You've been doing it for ages.  Stop making excuses and letting people solve your problems for you!  You're making progress, but not enough.  You have to make your own path."

"I don't know if I want my own path."

"Well, you're going to have one," said the girl, rather unsympathetically, Lianne thought, "so get used to the idea. You'll like it much better in the long run if _you_ decide where it leads."

"I like the sound of hiding much better," Lianne admitted.

The girl shrugged noncommittally.  "Suit yourself, but you won't like how it turns out in the end, trust me."

"In the end?  What's going to happen?"

"I can't tell you that.  It'd be cheating."

Lianne scowled.  "You're not very much good, are you?"

"You should be nicer," the little girl scolded.  "I'm only here to help."

"I'm sorry," Lianne said, though she wasn't entirely sure if she meant it.

"You should probably get some rest.  You're going to need it."  The little girl stood, dusting herself off carefully.  "Remember what I told you."

Lianne leaned her head back against the cool stone.  Now that the girl had mentioned it, she was very tired.  It was funny; she hadn't felt tired before.

"Oh, one more thing," the girl said, her voice sounding as if it were coming from much further away.  "If you always have to be told, you'll probably never know.  You'd better just find out for yourself sometimes."

As much as she would have like to reply, Lianne found herself much too exhausted to do so.  She shut her eyes and slept.

-

Lianne opened her eyes again, once again finding herself in completely new surroundings.  She wondered briefly if this growing trend was cause for concern; she certainly didn't like it one bit.

At least the surroundings were a little more reasonable this time.  Instead of a stone cell, Lianne found herself in a medium sized bedroom that was, to be honest, rather nice, actually.  Extremely impersonally, yes – the furniture and all four walls were completely bare and it didn't look as if the hearth in the far wall had _ever_ been used – but nice none the less.  Lianne sat up, intending to have more of a look around, when two very important things caught her attention.

Firstly, she was extremely stiff.  Her back and knees cracked in complaint when she moved, and her muscles felt as if they hadn't been stretched in ages.  Second, and Lianne found this the grossly more important of the two, beyond her loincloth and breast band, she didn't seem to be wearing any clothes.

Lianne clutched the blanket which had been covering her to her chest, shivering more out of extreme discomfort with her lack of clothes than actual cold.  It wasn't even just that she wasn't _wearing_ anything, either, but that a look around the room revealed that not only were her clothes gone from her person, but they were apparently gone from the entire surrounding area, as well.

Unsure of what to do, Lianne pulled the bedding over her shoulders and cocooned herself inside it, chewing on her lower lip.  Where ever she was, she was certain that Hiresh had brought her, or had, at the very least, been directly involved.  She underestimated him, she wouldn't do it again; Lianne didn't even want to think about what George would say to her if he ever learned she completely turned her back on someone she didn't trust.

She couldn't help but wonder if perhaps her conspicuous lack of clothes was intended to keep her inside the room where no one could see it.  It was possible, she decided, carefully sliding off the bed and clutching the blankets around her.  She crept across the room, mildly worried that at any moment someone would come bursting in upon her.  When she reached the tall cabinet on the opposite wall, she pulled the door open hesitantly, peering inside.

Apparently enforced confinement through nudity was not the master plan, after all.  The cabinet was almost entirely empty; all it contained was a plain white petticoat and a deep red dress hanging on a wooden rod.  Both looked about her size – she didn't want to think much on how whoever had supplied the garments would have known this.

Feeling more than a little silly, Lianne let the blankets fall to the floor and quickly dressed, grateful for clothes, even those of suspect origins.  The dress was simple enough and fairly non-descript, but the long skirt was not at all practical for any kind of movement faster than a leisurely walk.  This, she suspected, was entirely intentional.

The first thing Lianne tried once dressed as to open the door which she assumed lead outside the room.  It was locked, which did not entirely surprise her; not for the first time she found herself wishing her gift was good for more than lighting candles.  The more thorough survey of the room she conducted next was not very encouraging.  Someone had been very careful to make sure nothing in the room could be used as a weapon or a lock pick.  All the furniture was much to heavy to lift and much to sturdily made for Lianne to break; she couldn't find anything made of metal at all.

Frustrated, she stalked to the window, pulling the curtains open.  Not at all unexpectedly, Lianne could not, try as she might, get the window to open.  The look outside, though, that was useful.  At first glance all she could see beyond her window pane was a large, thick forest.  It was until she looked again, more carefully, that she realized the vast stretch of green wasn't a forest at all, but a jungle.  Wherever she was – and Lianne was beginning to get a good idea – it certainly wasn't Tortall.

-

_A/N: I'd apologize for the cliffie last chapter, except I reaaaally wanted to stick it in there. =D A big thanks to everyone who gave me Daine's daughter's real name – I've fixed chapters two and three to be accurate, now that I no longer have to stab in the dark to name the poor kid.  (Also, a big grumble grumble to Tamora for not telling us in the first place.  And by the way – what a poor baby!  There is no combination of Sarralyn, Sarrasri, and Salmalin that won't be complete hell for a three year old.)  As for Alan and Lianne, they're on the list of things I've sworn myself to secrecy about, so no comment there, but I love to hear your theories!_

Arabella_: She's around.  I had hoping to sneak her into the last few chapters somewhere, but it didn't pan out. Don't worry, I'll be sure and arrange a cameo somewhere._

Pheonix_: 'Squick' is a very valuable vocabulary word!  I squicked.  You squicked.  He is squicking.  She was squicked.  It's especially fun to say outloud!  Also, thank you.  And no, I'm not a gnome, but I think a few live in my basement._

_As always, a huge, delicious plate of THANK YOU to everyone who has reviewed._  I am seriously, literally overwhelmed by everyone's kind words.  Also, to everyone at The Dancing Dove – you are the nicest bunch on _Earth_, I think.  Lady Adelaide has posted a link in the reviews section – I recommend anyone looking for a really, really great group of Tamora fans to check it out.__


	11. Duet

_A/N: I know my notes typically go at the end.  The bulk of them will be there – this is simply a message from me asking for any of you who generally skip the notes to read the ones at the end of this chapter.  There's some very important information there.  Thanks!_

-

**Unknown**

-

It was funny; for someone who did a lot of sitting around in her room waiting for something to happen, Lianne found that when such behavior was forced upon her, it was really, dreadfully boring.

It felt like ages since Lianne had first awoken, and she had not discovered much in the idle time.  Among the vaguely relevant information she _had_ gathered was that her window faced west; the sun had inched into view some time before, and was now sinking out of site over the far horizon.  The only other useful new knowledge was something Lianne could only guess.  The windowpane was not at all frosted and only moderately cool when she pressed her hand to it.  The climate here – here being, she very much believed, the Copper Isles – was much warmer.

She had discovered a great many others things during her last few hours of isolation, but somehow Lianne doubted knowing how many cracks were in the ceiling, or where on the wall the cream colored paint was a slightly darker shade, was going to help her much in the long run.

In the time spent not learning anything useful, Lianne compiled a mental list of things she would absolutely have to find out.  The date, for one thing; she knew a very good ship, making no stops, could travel from Tortall to Lombyn Island, which she was almost positive was nearest, in about a week, so she certainly had been sleeping at least that long.  To be logical, she probably had been sleeping even longer, considering the time it would take to get to a port from Corus.  As near as she could figure, Lianne hadn't been conscious for near two weeks, at the _very_ least, and this unnerved her greatly.  It took powerful magic to keep someone in a stasis that long.  Lianne had seen healers do it for the very sick or injured while they recovered, and on every occasion, the healer had come out looking much worse for the wear.  She wasn't sure she wanted to imagine what it had taken to keep her unconscious.

Lianne couldn't help but wonder what was going on at the palace.  She knew it probably would have taken them a bit of time to realize she was gone.  It had been around midday when Hiresh had – had what?  She wasn't entirely clear on what had happened, actually, other then recalling the turning around to leave – so Lianne assumed that by that evening, or the next morning at breakfast by the _very_ latest, someone would notice that no one had seen her.  _Maybe they're already on the way to come get me,_ she hoped, _wherever I am._

-__

**January 28, 463 H.E. - 23rd year of the reign of King Jonathan IV and Queen Thayet**

**Corus, Tortall**

**-**

The difference in the palace, now that Hiresh was gone, was really remarkable, and Jasson couldn't have been more thankful for the change.  The tense atmosphere that had heralded his arrival was thankfully gone; even Liam and Lianne, both having been absolutely no fun at _all_ when the prince had been hovering around, had returned to relative normality.  Not that Jasson was currently speaking to Liam.

It had been Lianne who had finally told him the full story of why Hiresh made everyone uneasy.  At first, he had been angry with her too, especially since she had only actually given him the full story about three minutes before asking him to keep Hiresh well away from her whenever he could.  Eventually, Jasson had gotten over it.  After all, Lianne had only found out herself a few hours before.  Liam, he was a totally different story.  Jasson was sure he'd be angry for at least the rest of the week.  Possibly longer, he'd have to see how it went.

It was for this reason that, when it came time to decide who to visit with during the free hours he could no longer spend in the city, Lianne was Jasson's obvious choice.

"I don't see what you like about this so much.  It's _boring_."

Lianne did not look up from her book.  "I don't recall locking the door.  I'm sure you could get out if you tried hard enough."

Unable to resist making a face in her direction, he pushed himself up from the armchair he had deposited himself in when he had arrived and began pacing around the room irritably.  "But there's nothing to _do_.  Can't you read later?"

"This is a very good part," Lianne said, turning a page.  "I want to see what happens next."

"You've already read that one; you know perfectly well what happens!" Jasson snapped.

She sighed.  "Why don't you go find Liam?  I'm sure he'd be much more interesting."

"Fat chance."

Now she did look up, one finger holding her place as she raised her eyebrows at his tone.  "You two haven't made up?"

Jasson folded his arms and leaned against the wall behind him, frowning at her.  "_I don't have anything to make up __for, I'm sure you recall."_

"He told me that he apologized to you yesterday."

"Well, yeah," he shrugged, "But he wasn't sincere at all.  I bet he was just doing it so you'd stop telling him to talk to me."

This wasn't entirely accurate.  In fact, Jasson had to admit, it wasn't accurate at all.  He braced himself for the exasperated scolding he'd probably receive when Lianne inevitably saw right through him.

It didn't come.

"That's not like him," she said instead, more concerned than annoyed, to Jasson's confusion.  "Do you suppose he's mad about something else as well?"

Jasson, somewhat unsure if he was being set up, didn't say anything.

"I'll talk to him about it when I see him," Lianne went on, looking to her book again.  "Honestly, I don't think I can handle the two of you bickering for another day."

Jasson stared at his sister for several moments, completely bewildered.  Normally she'd have a comment for him if he told her that he hadn't done anything on a particular day, which wasn't usually even a lie, so much as laziness and a hesitance to relay the events of the entire day.  Her lack of response to this was very unusual.

_Huh,_ he thought.  _That's interesting._

-

**Unknown**

-

Lianne was just beginning to wonder if it was possible to quite literally die of boredom when a series of clicks caught her attention.  She looked up sharply, just in time to see the door open slowly and Hiresh step inside the room, eyes settling on her quickly.

"Ah," he smiled.  "You're awake."

For a moment, Lianne could simply gape at him, astounded by the nonchalance with which he had greeted her.  When she finally managed to bypass the overwhelming shock, she shut her mouth with a soft snap and stood quickly, arms instinctively folding across her chest in a protective manner.

"The dress suits you," Hiresh said, looking her over in a manner Lianne found extremely discomforting.  "I thought it would."

"Where am I?" she asked, knowing she was being extremely rude and not caring even a little bit.  "What day is it?"

Hiresh crossed the room, shutting the cabinet door, which Lianne had left slightly ajar.  Lianne, for her part, shadowed his movements in the opposite direction and did her very best to keep herself as far away from him as she possibly could.

"Jerykun Island, if you absolutely must know.  And it is the 3rd of February, not that I can see why it matters."

"That's impossible," Lianne stared at him, "No ship is that fast."

His polite smile grew smug, and he allowed himself a briefly, humorless chuckle.  "Perhaps none you have in Tortall are.  You'll find a great many things are different here, Lianne."

"Don't call me that."

"I'm sorry I didn't have time to have your room better prepared for you," Hiresh said, ignoring her completely and glancing about at the bare surroundings.  "I'll see what I can do about some distractions for you.  Books, perhaps.  I can't let you leave just yet, of course.  I didn't go to all this trouble to have you run off."

"I won't have to," she replied, raising her chin in defiance.  "My father will not take this kindly.  People will come for me, soon I expect.  You clearly didn't think this through."

His dark eyes focused on her, seemingly amused.  "Oh, I disagree.  And seeing as, of the two of us, I am the only one even remotely aware of what's happened in the last several days, I think you'll have to agree I am clearly the better judge."

"You're completely mad," Lianne said, slowly shaking her head with the realization.  "Bringing me here could easily mean war and you don't even care."

He moved towards the door again, nonplussed.  "Perhaps for other people; I think you'll find a great many rules do not apply to me."

Lianne scowled at his back as he opened the door, raising her voice slightly.  "They'll come for me, and for you too, you know.  And they'll burn this entire building to the ground to find you."

Hiresh glanced over his shoulder, eyebrows raised in a most skeptical manner.  "Don't be ridiculous, Lianne.  This building is made of stone."

He left, locking the door behind him, and Lianne stood very still, looking at the spot he had been standing in for quite a long time.

-

_A/N: **Attention – please read this before reviewing! There are some very important things I have to say this go around.**_

_-Starting this chapter, there are probably going to be a lot of questions that don't have answers right away, and small clues eventually leading to much bigger pictures.  A lot of things are going to be revealed in very small parts, as the characters slowly gather information, but I hope some of you can put the pieces together before they do!  All I ask is that if you _do_ put a plot point together, you don't spoil it for everyone else in a review.  For example, if through very careful reading, you realize Hiresh is actually an evil bunny overlord set on world domination, _please_ don't leave a review along the lines of "Wow, I can't believe Hiresh is a crazed rabbit!"  It ruins the surprise for everyone else.  I'd be more than happy to talk about anything you've pieced together if you email me; I promise to reply!_

_-Also, a note about the timeline in this chapter, and probably the next one or two, as well: Both of Lianne's scenes take place on the same day, February 3rd – the interlude with Jasson back in Tortall actually takes place several days before.  For the narrative's sake, we'll be jumping around a little bit.  I hope it won't be too confusing.  I'll try and get everyone back into the same time frame ASAP._

_That's all – as always, _thank you_ to everyone who has reviewed.  43 reviews – wow!  You guys are the best.  ___


	12. Quiet Rebellion

-

**February 4, 463 H.E. - 23rd year of the reign of King Jonathan IV and Queen Thayet**

**Jerykun Island, the Copper Isles**

**-**

Lianne woke the next morning to find a small chest at the foot of her bed that had not been there the day before. Inside she found the distractions Hiresh had promised. The majority of the items were books; she was surprised to find copies of several of her old favorites. It seemed like years, not days, before that Lianne had given him the titles of these exact books. The questions he had asked her on their tour, so confusing at the time, had now come sharply into focus. Lianne found she didn't like the implications at all.

Also among the books were several thick volumes on the history of the Copper Isles. These Lianne had absolutely no interest in whatsoever, and though she had no way to start a large enough fire, she unceremoniously piled them on the floor of the stone hearth. All the supplies for needlework also found in the chest - minus the needles, which Lianne carefully hid beneath her mattress - joined the histories soon thereafter. She hoped someone would notice.

In the end, she was left with several books - the vast majority of which she had already read - a chessboard, some playing cards, some paper, and some ink. Seeing as it was extremely unlikely Hiresh was going to allow her to send any letters home, she did not know how to play chess alone, and she generally loathed solitary card games, Lianne wasn't entirely sure what she was supposed to do with any of those particular items. She toyed with the idea of using the chess pieces as weapons, but found that her throwing accuracy was practically non-existent, and quickly scrapped the idea.

Her best choice to entertain herself, as it had been the day before, was to sit and stare moodily out the window, internally debating crazed escape plans that even she knew would never work. Even though she knew she would probably regret thinking it, Lianne almost wished that Hiresh would just do whatever it was he intended, if only for the distraction.

-

**January 29, 463 H.E. - 23rd year of the reign of King Jonathan IV and Queen Thayet**

**Corus, Tortall**

**-**

Jasson had been looking for Lianne for over an hour when, just as he was about to give up, she found him first.

"I talked to Liam a bit ago," she told him, having caught up with him in the hall just outside the library. "He said he had talked with you this morning. Have you two made up, then?"

Jasson looked at her for a moment before answer, considering what to say. "I don't know what he's playing at. He hasn't talked to me at all."

This, and there was no way around it, was absolutely, completely untruthful. Jasson wasn't a bad liar - as far as he could tell, he didn't blink or sweat or display any nervous tics that he was aware of when he told a lie he had been prepared for. There was no reason for someone to doubt the validity of what he had just said, and he knew it. But Lianne would anyway, and he knew that too.

"I give up; you two are both being completely impossible!" Her lips pressed together into a thin line as she said this, and she rolled her eyes irritably. "One of you is obviously lying to me, I don't know who, and honestly, I don't care anymore, either. Never speak to each other again for all I care, but _do _do me a favor, and grow up."

Jasson watched her turn on her heel and leave in what he personally thought was a bit of a snit, barely controlling the knee jerk reaction to defend his maturity and, instead, standing in thoughtful silence.

The one good thing about having free time, he had realized over the last day or so, was that you really did have much more time to think than you did otherwise. Jasson turned around and walked in the other direction.

-

**February 4, 463 H.E. - 23rd year of the reign of King Jonathan IV and Queen Thayet**

**Jerykun Island, the Copper Isles**

**-**

Lianne was slowly beginning to discover that she was not as good company as she had once thought. She supposed that this realization had only just struck her due to the fact that she had been talking to herself more in the last day and a half than she had during the last sixteen years, combined, and had found her own conversational skills rather lacking.

In the last few hours, she had tried to read a book, build a house of cards, pick the lock to the door with an embroidery needle, and make up a rowdy song like one she had learned at the Tree once. To her dismay, she had summarily discovered that she did not have the attention span, the patience, the skill, or the filthy vocabulary needed to complete even one of these goals. Eventually, the window became her only source of entertainment, yet again.

She had saved a bit of the bread that had been delivered with her lunch and crumbled it. The window had a chain on it, and was clearly only meant to be opened just enough for a bit of fresh air to be allowed in. It had taken a good deal of twisting her arm this way and that - and had resulted in nasty scratches along the sides of her hand - but Lianne had managed to get her hand far enough out the window to deposit the breadcrumbs on the windowsill, hoping to attract some company, even if only a bird.

Her efforts had paid off. Now, sitting in front of the window, she regarded the large crow greedily pecking at the crumbs as if it was the most interesting thing she had ever seen in her life - and in that moment, it felt as if it was. The bird, obviously not an unintelligent creature, had been slow in approaching the offering; he was apparently aware of Lianne watching him. Now he didn't seem to mind the audience in the least, and was happily devouring the bread.

Behind her, the lock clicked, and the door opened. Lianne turned in her seat but did not rise, watching silently as Hiresh entered the room.

He looked at her for a moment, then at the chest at the foot of the bed. "I had that sent so you would have something better to do with your time than sit and look at nothing."

"I've read them all," Lianne said, turning back to the window and folding her arms.

Hiresh was quiet for nearly a full minute. "I find that highly unlikely," he finally said, and Lianne could hear him slowly moving in her direction. "If you think that being purposely spiteful is going to change anything, you're wrong."

"Oh, I'm always like this. Maybe you should have taken that Tyran princess, Michela, instead. I've heard she's lovely."

"I had hoped," he began, a hint of anger audible in his voice for the first time, "that you and I might talk."

"And I had hoped," Lianne stood, turning to look at the wall just left of his head with a saccharine smile, "That you would suddenly contract a horrible, debilitating disease. Clearly, we are both out of favor with the Gods."

He opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again, as if thinking better of whatever it was he had been about to say. It took a moment before he seemed to find the words he was searching for. "I am a patient man, you'll find. I do not mind waiting for you to get used to me."

"_Used to you_!" Lianne sputtered, and proceeded to detail the likelihood of the idea in language she very seldom used at all, let alone in front of another person.

"I will be," he said, speaking loudly over her outraged, half coherent diatribe, "A fine husband, you'll see."

She stared at him a moment, open mouthed and speechless. "No doubt!" she finally managed, sure he couldn't possibly be serious. "You're an exemplary jailor, after all. They must sing songs about you!"

He looked, again, as if her were about to lose his temper – and then, with some visible effort, he bit it back again. "I'll wait – you'll adjust."

"I'd rather _die_."

"That would also work, if you insist!" he said, sounding, for the first time, truly harsh.

_Not made of stone after all, are you?_ Lianne thought, and looked dismissively away. She could see him, just out of the corner of her eye, watch her expressionlessly for a moment, then shake his head slightly and turn to leave. He hadn't moved more than a few steps before his eyes, she guessed, fell on the hearth; he turned back.

Hiresh turned back to her, voice quiet. "Those were a gift."

"Oh, yes," She flapped a hand vaguely. "At home, that's where I keep all my useless books."

"I thought you might be interested in reading the country's history, seeing as you'll be living here."

Lianne folded her arms and turned away. "Perhaps I haven't been clear. I don't give a _spit_ about your Gods-cursed islands. I'll be leaving as soon as I'm able, and once I do, I hope they _sink_."

She did not even have time to process the strong pull on her shoulder that forcibly turned her back again. His palm connected with her face so fast that by the time she registered the pain, her body had already reacted; she was pressing a hand against her stinging cheek and looking at him in shock before Lianne totally understood what had happened.

"You will learn respect," he told her, visibly working to control his temper. "Or you will enjoy a life of solitude. It makes _very_ little difference to me."

He turned and stalked out, the door shutting loudly behind him. Lianne sat back down, hand still to her face. The bird had vanished from the windowsill; she could barely make it out flapping off into the distance.

"Take me with you," Lianne whispered to empty air.

-

_A/N: 51 reviews! 51! I'm beside myself, I really am. You guys are wonderful; I really have no words. Thank you._

Silverfall_: You're right – It is Rubinyan. I'm horribly embarrassed – nearest I can figure, I typoed once and then made the silly mistake of referring back to his name within my own story, not to the book. Last time I do that! . As for Sarralyn, I actually didn't know, and originally had her named something else in the story. Thanks to some really wonderful reviewers, and the folks at the Dancing Dove, I've learned that Tamora's been telling people who ask that her name is Sarralyn at signings, and that it will appear in the next Aly book._

AlmightyChrissy_: I'm glad someone else really likes those lines – they're two of my favorite, as well! Oh, Raoul...I pine for you..._


	13. Probing

-

**January 29, 463 H.E. - 23rd year of the reign of King Jonathan IV and Queen Thayet**

**Corus, Tortall**

**-**

Not willing to risk missing him, Jasson chose to wait in Liam's quarters for him to return, rather than go looking for him.  He knew that there would be fallout he would have to deal with when Liam discovered him; it wasn't likely his brother would be pleased to realize Jasson had free access to his rooms.  All he could do was hope Liam would accept the completely false explanation that a servant had let him in.  Jasson would make a point to hide his copy of the key more thoroughly in the future, just in case.  He definitely wouldn't be giving it up.

Liam certainly took his time coming back from where it was he had been off to.  Jasson didn't mind; it gave him time to think over what he was going to say.  He didn't want to risk not explaining himself properly.

Finally, the door opened, and Liam entered.  He spotted Jasson quickly and stopped just inside the room, hand still on the latch.  For a moment, he didn't say anything, instead looking at Jasson as if waiting for some sort of explanation.  Jasson did not offer one.

"Actually, your room is downstairs," Liam finally said, one eyebrow slightly raised.

Jasson did not move from the chair he had seated himself in.  "I have to talk to you about something.  Shut the door?"

"Oh, you're talking to me now?"  The door remained open, and Liam stepped aside, obviously intending to shut it only when Jasson was safely on the other side.  "That's interesting – last _I heard I was a lying prat."_

"I think there's something wrong with Lianne," Jasson said, arms folded across his chest as he looked as his brother impatiently.

Liam blinked at him, then turned and shut the door.

-

**February 6, 463 H.E. - 23rd year of the reign of King Jonathan IV and Queen Thayet**

**Jerykun**** **Island******, the Copper Isles**

**-**

Hiresh did not return again the day of their argument, much to Lianne's relief, nor the next day.  Her solitude was broken only by the servants who brought up her three daily meals.

Lianne hated the servants, though she was forced to admit, they seemed very dedicated to their job.  The visits were always the same, though the servants never were.  Two would come; a male and a female.  The male was always much larger than Lianne and very intimidating, while the female was generally either quite young or quite old and, Lianne suspected, probably not good for much.  Both were always silent.  The female would carry the tray with Lianne's food and drink, then retreat to the hallway.  Lianne would be forced to eat with the male standing nearby, watching her like a hawk.  She had guessed his job quickly; three times she had tried to quietly hide the knife given to her in the folds of her skirt, only to have it quickly taken away.  Eventually, she had given up.

When she had finished eating, the male would open the door again, the female would enter to collect her tray, and both would leave as quietly as they had entered.  Lianne generally tried to disrupt this set pattern in some way, be it through chattering idly throughout the entire meal or dragging it out to a ridiculous length.  Thus far, she had failed each and every time.

When the door opened shortly after Lianne had awoken, she did not bother to look up, as it was just about the right time for her breakfast to arrive.  It was only the soft 'ahem' that followed which drew her eyes away from the book she had been skimming.

Hiresh stood in the doorway, watching her with a vaguely interested expression.  This surprised Lianne; typically he visited her much later in the day.

"I hope you aren't too hungry," he said, after a lengthy pause.  "Your breakfast will have to wait today.  You have an appointment."

Lianne didn't reply, somewhat disturbed.  Hiresh seemed to have returned to his typical behavior; he was smiling pleasantly at her, and completely ignored the hearth, where the histories were still piled.

After another long silence, he raised his eyebrows at her, smile not faltering.  I'd really rather not be late."

Slowly, she stood.  Despite having wanted to simply get out of the room, even for only a few moments, more than anything else for the last several days, the idea now made her nervous.  An appointment?  Lianne doubted she would greatly enjoy meeting with anyone Hiresh would consider worth being on time for.

On the other hand, Lianne wondered if it was possible wherever they were going was not located in the very immediate vicinity.  That could work to her advantage.  _He doesn't look_ very fast,_ she thought, glancing at him out of the corner of her eyes as she crossed to the door._

All thoughts of running away were quelled when Lianne stepped out into the stone corridor beyond her door.  Two young - and extremely athletic, she couldn't help but notice – men waited there, regarding her curiously.  Where Hiresh was large and imposing, these men were lean and wiry, and Lianne seriously doubted she could outrun them, even if the tried.

Hiresh set off down the corridor and Lianne glumly followed a few steps behind, closely flanked by the guards.  No longer interested in trying to make a sudden escape, she concentrated, instead, on at least trying to remember how to get away from her room, if she were to ever get out on her own.  It didn't take her very long to notice that whoever had designed the halls had clearly not been interested in simplicity; she found the twists and turns incredibly difficult to track.  By the time they had descended a second staircase, Lianne was completely lost.  She walked the rest of the way in disheartened silence.

Hiresh eventually stopped at a set of large double doors, two floors below where Lianne's room was located, and - she was fairly sure - in a completely different area of the building.  The guards moved forward, pushing the doors open quickly, and Hiresh placed a hand on the small of Lianne's back, leading her inside.  The gesture made her skin crawl.

The room was, as near as Lianne could tell, usually used as a dining room.  However, the large table taking up a good deal of the space was not covered with food, but with a variety of fabrics in many colors and textures.  A petit redhead sat in one chair, looking Lianne over with a critical eye.

"Mistress Amiel, my personal tailor," Hiresh motioned the woman closer with a slight hand gesture. "I've asked her to fit you for a few things."

He lead her to an overturned box set on the floor near the table, which Lianne stepped up onto, then seated himself nearby, offering a smile she thought was possibly intended to be reassuring.

"I don't suppose you'd consider a pair of breeches, would you?" Lianne muttered, raising her arms so Amiel could slip a measuring string around her waist.  

With a short, humorless chuckle, Hiresh shook his head.  "No.  I don't think so."

"I thought not," she sighed.

The dress fitting was, as Lianne expected it would be, dreadfully boring.  It was also _extremely_ long, though this was no one's fault but her own.  Annoyed at being made to stand still while Amiel measured and draped various fabrics across Lianne's frame, she could not resist being as contrary as she possibly could.  She sighed, rolled her eyes, and fidgeted on a regular basis.  When the tailor tried to take measurements, Lianne would slump, shift her weight, or make quick movements; whenever Amiel came anywhere _near _her with pins, Lianne suddenly became extremely jittery, and many pins continuously ended up crooked, and had to be replaced several times.  By the end of the fitting, Amiel was beside herself.  Lianne wondered if she might never return.

Hiresh, of course, said nothing of this.  In fact, he seemed rather on the cheerful side, filling the quiet of the room with idle conversation on everything from local politics to the weather.  Lianne did not respond to any of this until they were well on their way back to her room.

"What would these new dresses be for, then?" she asked, cutting off his reflection on the upcoming rainy season abruptly.

Hiresh glanced at her, seemingly pleased by her interest.  "For the wedding, of course.  You didn't think I'd have you wear that, would you?  It's much too plain."

Lianne very suddenly felt extremely cold, and she stared at him, open mouthed.  She had been right; wishing Hiresh would get on with whatever it was he meant to had been rather foolish after all.

 -

**January 29, 463**** H.E. - 23rd year of the reign of King Jonathan IV and Queen Thayet**

**Corus, Tortall**

**-**

"Lianne!"

It had taken him a good deal of searching and asking around for her, but Liam finally found Lianne on her way out of the library just after dinner.  Book in hand, she looked at him, mouth pressed into a line.

"If it's about Jasson," she said, looking extremely irritated, "then please spare me.  I don't want anything to do with this stupid fight."

"It's not," Liam assured her, leading her away from the library's doors in the direction from which he had come.  "Actually, it's about Alan.  No one's seen him all day, and he missed a meeting he was supposed to go to."

The cross expression on Lianne's face vanished instantly.  "That's not like him at all."

"That's why I'm worried," Liam said.  "Have you seen him?"

She shook her head, frowning.  "No, I haven't seen him since early yesterday."

Liam sighed, running a hand through his hair.  "All right.  Thanks.  If he hasn't turned up by tomorrow, I'll start asking around the city, I suppose."

"I hope he's alright."  She bit her lower lip, looking so concerned that Liam almost felt bad for bringing it up to her.

"He's probably fine," he said, touching her arm.  "You know Alan.  He can take care of himself."

They talked for a few minutes more before she left, heading in the direction of her room.  Liam watched her go, jaw clenched tightly.

"Did you hear all that?" he finally asked, not bothering to turn around.

Alan rounded the corner he had been lurking behind and walked to Liam's side, a frown on his face.  He nodded.

Liam turned to look at him.  "I didn't like it at all."

"No," Alan shook his head, "I don't either."

-

**February 6, 463 H.E. - 23rd year of the reign of King Jonathan IV and Queen Thayet**

**Jerykun**** **Island******, the Copper Isles**

**-**

It turned out desperation did not help when attempting delicate operations – not that Lianne was any good at lock picking when she was perfectly calm, either.

Despite having already tried, and failed, to unlock the door with her embroidery needles, Lianne still found herself desperately poking at the lock mechanism on her door through the keyhole.  Earlier, she had tried very carefully to pick the lock through skill, rather than luck.  Now that the sun had set, Lianne could barely see; the candles in her room did not give nearly enough light for her to peer through the keyhole and try to see what she was doing.  She had given up on skill entirely.  The reasonable part of her knew that she wasn't going to gain anything from this other than, perhaps, a very sore wrist, but sitting and doing nothing felt _wrong_.

It had been hours since Hiresh had returned Lianne to her room after the dress fitting.  She hadn't been able to concentrate on anything other than the suddenly very real fact that she was here to get _married since.  It hadn't taken her long to reach the decision that she was fed up, and that she was leaving._

If…she could manage go figure out how.  Thus far, it wasn't looking good.  Already, she had tried to kick the door down, and found herself entirely lacking the physical strength.  Smashing the door handle with one of the large history books was similarly a failure; all Lianne had managed to do was hurt her hands and put a rather large dent in the book's cover.

_I'll never get out_, she thought, a faint sense of panic beginning to set in.  _I'll be stuck here until he marries me, and then I'll probably get locked right back up again.  _With a shake of her head, she began poking through the keyhole with renewed vigor.  _I'm leaving, even if I have to carved my way through the door with this blasted – _

The needle in her hand hit something inside the keyhole and stuck.  Lianne tugged on it and found she could not pull it back out.  She frowned, wiggling the metal to no avail; the needle must have wedged itself under something, and tightly.

Gritting her teeth in frustration, she gave the needle a hard yank.  The thin metal snapped cleanly in half, leaving her with part of the needle in her hand, part of it jammed into the keyhole, and a growing expression of disbelief on her face.

_Maybe I'm cursed, _she grumbled, silently.

Disgusted, she stood and crossed to her chest, opening it and trading the small bit of metal for one of the thicker books.  It took all her willpower to not literally stomp back to the door, book in hand.  She lined up the one corner of the spin with the keyhole and gave the needle a hard prod with the book, no longer caring how much noise she had made.  When the needle had been jammed in far enough that Lianne was confident it wouldn't be immediately visible, she dropped the book to the ground and rested her forehead against the smooth wood of the door, throat feeling very tight.  She would not cry – she wouldn't.  Well, maybe just a little.

She sniffed, wanting terribly to just be back in her own room, with her own things, and her own family.  That thought brought the tears in earnest, and she did not bother trying to hold them back.  Unable to contain her frustration, she kicked at the door, and then angrily jostled the handle, the cause of so many of her problems.

It turned, and Lianne stopped crying very quickly.

She let go, pulling her hand back and blinking at the handle, confused.  Wondering if she had perhaps imagined it, she reached for the handle again and gave it a turn.  The door opened.

For a long moment, Lianne was dumbfounded.  There was no way she could think of that she could have possibly picked the lock by smacking the key hole with a book, and yet there the door was, unlocked.  After about a minute of staring at the door and trying to piece together what had just happened, a very important thought struck her: she didn't really _care_ how it was open.  Lianne hurried out the door, shutting it behind her.

The hall looked deserted; she greatly hoped that it was late enough that most of the building's other inhabitants had since gone to bed.  Caution slowed her steps; it took her what felt like hours to reach the end of the corridor, and the forceful pounding of her heart against her ribs was extremely distracting.

She had absolutely no idea how long – and how many wrong turns - it took her, of course, but eventually Lianne reached the first staircase.  There had been a few tense moments; several times she had been sure she had heard movement somewhere nearby, only to find no one anywhere near her.  Now, having reached her first goal, she was unsure what to do next.  The stairs descended into darkness below her, and Lianne knew that once she reached the bottom of them she would have absolutely no idea which way to go.

In the end, that didn't matter much anyway.  Lianne did not notice the door directly behind her open, and by the time she was aware of the hands reaching for her, one was already clamped secure over her mouth, and the other was pulling her steadily backwards.

A figure she couldn't entirely make out shut the door silently once Lianne was wholly in the room, and the hands holding her let go.  Trembling slightly, she turned, having braced herself for a guard, and instead finding a pair of green-hazel eyes that she knew very well, though usually they were several inches higher.

"Going somewhere?" Aly asked.


	14. Revelations

-

**January 29, 463 H.E. - 23rd year of the reign of King Jonathan IV and Queen Thayet**

**Corus, Tortall**

-

It was common knowledge that Jasson and Kitten were generally a volatile combination.  Their private war, ten years long and with no sign of a truce in the near future, was well known among their family and friends.  It had begun as a series of isolated incidents that eventually grew into regular attacks.  The first seemed innocent enough; Kitten, aged four, had 'accidentally' locked Jasson, also aged four, in a closet for three hours before he was discovered and let out. A few months later, Jasson began to 'accidentally' step on Kitten's tail whenever he passed her.  It was at approximately that time that lines were drawn and war was silently declared.

The battles since had been many; attacks were generally unexpected, and almost always merciless.  At age 6, Kitten woke Jasson every morning for a week by creeping into his room at a ridiculous hour and shrieking into his ear.  At age 9, Jasson tripped and dumped a bucket of week old milk he coincidentally happened to be carrying over Kitten's head.  When they were 12, Jasson was forced to bring a sealable water skin with him to every meal for several weeks, as Kitten had taken to saturating his drinks with foul tasting powders every time she got the chance.  Bystanders knew that it was best to vacate any room both parties were in at the same time, as twenty minutes of peace between the two was virtually unheard of.

It was because of this long history that Liam was rather uncomfortable seeing the two of them walk down the hall in his direction side by side, rather than running at a breakneck speed with one chasing the other.  It wasn't, in his opinion, natural.

"What?" Jasson asked when he was near enough to be heard without raising his voice above a whisper.

Liam glanced from one to the other in the dim light, taking in Jasson's genuinely innocent expression and the curious way Kitten was regarding him with a healthy degree of skepticism.  "You two are getting along now?"

Kitten snorted with what Liam interpreted as disgust, and Jasson shook his head rapidly, making face at the idea of it.

"No." Jasson said firmly, glancing at the dragonette out of corner of his eye.  "Consider this a temporary peace for the greater good, and never expect us to do it again."

Kitten nodded, crossing the few feet between her and the door Liam had been waiting in front of and peering through the keyhole.  Liam set a hand on her shoulder and she looked up at him, head tipped to one side.

"Wait," he whispered.

They waited.  The hall around them was silent for several minutes, before a loud bell broke the quiet, signaling the midnight hour.  Liam removed his hand and nodded to the dragonet.

Rising on her haunches slightly, Kitten leveled her eye with the door's lock and gave a soft trill that was almost entirely drowned out by the noise of the bell.  She reached up and gave the handle a turn; the door opened easily.

The room inside, and those connecting, were dark and quiet.  Liam internally debated summoning light, but decided against it, and instead motioned for Jasson to shut the door, then led the three through the small sitting room very slowly, taking care not to bump into anything.  Behind him, Jasson was evidently not being as careful, and smacked into a table, the wooden legs scraping across the floor.  All three boys froze.

No noise came from the bedroom, and after a breathless moment, they relaxed, exchanging glares and apologetic looks as necessary.  Kitten, clucking her tongue in what Liam could only assume was annoyance, slipped past his side silently, and padded to the open bedroom door, disappearing from sight just beyond it.  When Liam reached the door, he was just able to make her out standing across the room, paws on the bed as she leaned forward and examined Lianne's sleeping form critically.

She was deep asleep, as far as Liam could tell, once he was close enough to see her clearly in the dark.  She was curled into her customary ball, the blankets pulled up and hiding all but her neck and shoulders; her breathing was shallow, and the only motion Liam could see was the occasional quick movement behind her eyelids.  It didn't seem likely she was going to wake up soon.  Still…

"What do we do if she wakes up?" he asked Jasson, who stood at the foot of the bed, quietly.

Jasson shrugged, seemingly not worried about the idea.  "She won't if we're quick."

At Liam's nod, Kitten took a step back, eyes still on Lianne's face.  After a moment, she let out a soft, high pitched whistle.  Almost instantly, the little of Lianne exposed began to glow a faint green, the color growing more pronounced the longer Kitten maintained the sound.  

After a few moments of this, she changed the pitch of her whistle without warning, and even in the dim lightly, Liam could see that Lianne – still bathed in a green glow – had begun to fade, the pillow clearly visible beyond her head.  Liam could hear Jasson inhale sharply at the sight – he sympathized; forced to watch Lianne grow increasingly transparent, Liam clenched his jaw tightly to keep from cursing and potentially waking her up.  It was extremely unsettling.  Before Lianne disappeared entirely, he pulled Kitten away from the bed by the elbow.

Kitten turned to him, chattering, and though Liam often did not understand her, it was not hard to tell she was angry.  She pointed to the bed, where Lianne, no longer subject to the dragonet's magic, had ceased to glow, and had returned to her normal, opaque state.  Though she showed no signs of waking at the sudden noise, Liam hurried to quiet Kitten none the less.

"It'd be better if she stayed the way she is, for now, actually."  He moved to the door, closely followed by Jasson, who did no stop in the sitting room, but instead proceeded out into the hallway beyond.  Kitten, apparently insulted at having been interrupted, followed sulkily.

All three were silent until safely in the hallway, with the door to Lianne's suite firmly shut.  Hands in his pocket, Jasson eyed Kitten, who was still apparently aggravated, warily.  "So…what'd you do?"

She bristled, scales taking on a faint red hue near the edges as she stood straighter on her hind legs.  Again Liam could not understand the _words_ of her vocal exclamation, but knew, by tone alone, that he was being scolded nonetheless.

"Look," he said, spreading his hands before him apologetically.  "It really wouldn't go over well if she vanished in the middle of the night.  People would notice."

Kitten snorted, still looking petulant.

"I'm still confused," Jasson reminded them, impatience visibly growing.

"I am too, a little bit," Liam admitted, resting his weight on the wall behind him.  Even when Kitten had been doing – whatever it was she had been doing, Lianne had looked enough like herself.  If she hadn't been acting so strangely, he never would have thought otherwise.  Still, his mind knew that the reaction Kitten's whistle had caused had meant something – something important.  "She's not real, is she?" He finally asked, eyes turning downward to the young dragon again.

Kitten shook her head, muttering something beneath her breath that Liam presumed he was probably better off not understanding.

"So that's not her, then?"

Again Kitten shook her head, and at this Jasson frowned severely, casting a sharp glance towards Lianne's door, several feet away.  "If that's not her, where is she?  She wouldn't have just _left."_

Liam pushed his hair back with one hand, frowning as well, to only marginally less a degree.  "No," he said.  "She wouldn't."  For a moment, he was quiet, running through a quick list of the obvious implications in his head, rather than voicing them aloud.  Though the revelation had muddled a good deal of his thoughts, a few things were very clear to him, the most important being the very disturbing absence of his actual sister; this was closely followed in importance by the growing suspicion that whoever was responsible for the doppelganger had clearly put a great deal of time and effort into making a nearly indiscernible copy of Lianne, but did not know her well enough to be aware of her Sight.  Considering the reasons someone would go to all the trouble furthered his unease.  Liam swallowed, quickly deciding to keep these thoughts to himself, and looked from Jasson to Kitten solemnly.  "Don't talk about this with anyone.  Don't act differently around her either.  I – need time to think about what we should do."

Jasson and Kitten both nodded, though Jasson hesitated and looked about to protest before doing so.  As far as Liam could tell, only the resolve he knew must have shone through his face kept his brother from arguing.  He was glad for it; it saved time.

The three walked to the end of the hall together.  Liam bade them goodnight and watched as they went on their way, body language already beginning to indicate that the temporary truce was rapidly drawing to an end.  When both were well out of sight, he turned and began not in the direction of his quarters, but towards another section of the palace entirely, mind rapidly weighing his options.

Light shone under Alan's door when Liam reached it, and so he did not hesitate to knock.  He was answered quickly; Alan, fully dressed, almost looked as if he had been expecting the company as he held the door open so Liam could pass, then shut and locked it behind him.

"Well," Liam said after a moment, hands buried in his pocket and eyes turned to the window.  "Lianne's not here.  I don't think she's been here for a while, actually."

Behind him, Alan was very still, and did not reply for a moment or two.  "That's bad." He finally said.

"I think so." He turned from the window, looking at Alan carefully before speaking again.  "I'd better go find her.  Want to come?"

Alan gave it about a half-second's thought.  "When do we leave?"

-

_A/N:  I know the wait between this and the last chapter was really long – I'm sorry!  School has, unfortunately, started up again, which is going to slow updates down a bit, and on top of that, I was really sick for a good deal of last week, and couldn't update.  But!  I have already sent chapter 15 off to be betaed, so while I can't say when the next update will be, I don't expect it will take quite as long._

_I'd never imagined I'd have so many reviewers that I'd never be able to thank everyone personally.  Wow!  I am so, so grateful to you all, hugs all around, and some extra special Chocolate Covered Cute-Boy-Character-Of-Choice to all the girls over at the Dove, who are _so awesome_.  Anyone reading this who doesn't already post should go and sign up right away!  (pub162.ezboard.com/bthedancingdove)_

_Also, you probably all noticed that certain people *cough* did not make an appearance in this chapter, and I kind of sort of left you hanging.  I'm sorry!  I promise some (not all) will be explained first thing chapter 15.  Originally everything was together to be posted in this update – and it was about 13 pages long!  I promise we'll meet up with the _real _Lianne really, really soon._


	15. Escape

-

**February 6, 463 H.E. - 23rd year of the reign of King Jonathan IV and Queen Thayet**

**Jerykun****Island****, the Copper Isles**

**-**

As much as Lianne did appreciate the help, she couldn't help but wonder if Aly had perhaps finally inherited a little of the madness rumored to run in her mother's family.  She was certainly acting oddly – or at least more oddly than Lianne remembered her acting.  Besides being in a place she shouldn't have known about with no logical explanation offered thus far, and besides having kidnapped Lianne from the hallway without warning, she was also making quite a point to dance around any questions Lianne asked, offering only vague answers which didn't explain anything, if any at all.

"What are you doing here?" Lianne had asked when she had first recovered her voice enough to speak.  In reply, Aly shrugged casually, as if her being there was the most natural thing in the world.

"How'd you get here?" She had tried later, after having been led down the stairs and through a series of dark hallways she couldn't keep straight.  This was ignored entirely, though Lianne wasn't sure if it was because Aly didn't have an answer, or because she was checking around a corner to make sure no guards were waiting.

"Where are we going?" Was the next attempt, asked in a low whisper as they waited for the tall man who seemed to be doing most of the navigating crept ahead of them to make sure the large, unlit room they had just entered was as empty as it seemed.

"Oh, are we leaving then?"  She asked no one in particular once they were outside via the stables and making for the high wall several yards away.  Having been more or less ignored previously, she did not expect an answer.

"_Lianne_," Aly had said, surprising her and turning to face her in the moonlight, a touch of exasperation creeping into her voice, "This will be easier if we're not overheard."

Lianne, seeing the sense in this, and also somewhat abashed by the reprimand, said nothing until they we well away from the building – which, from the outside, she could finally identify as a large stone manor in what appeared to be the absolute middle of nowhere.  Besides for a few smaller structures she inferred belonged to the manor, despite not being connected, she could see no other signs of civilization.  The jungle surrounding the clearing in which the manor was built had clearly been cut back for the sole purpose of making just enough space – the trees nearly formed a circular wall as they abruptly took control of the land again.  Lianne could see a road cut through the growth several meters off, but Aly and her companion stayed well away from it, walking straight into the trees, instead.  She followed, though her dress and thin slippers were not at all suited for the thick undergrowth she found herself trudging through.

Truth be told, she was a little overwhelmed by it all.  Trailing Aly in the darkness and struggling not to trip over hidden vines and roots, Lianne tried to make some kind of sense out of the last hour or so, and found herself unable to.  Aly's appearance had signaled what seemed to have been the end of Lianne's control over the situation – certainly when she had left her room, she hadn't planned to find herself stumbling dazedly through the jungle sometime later with no idea whatsoever where she was going.

No one spoke for quite some time, and Lianne would have found the silence oppressive, if she hadn't been more concerned with not falling and loosing her guides in the darkness.  When, several feet ahead of her, Aly spoke, she was startled by the sudden noise.

"Thank you," she said to someone or something Lianne couldn't see.  "I'm not sure we would have gotten out without the help."

It took Lianne several minutes to navigate the dense growth separating them, and she nearly tripped several times, but she did manage to close the distance.  Aly, when she found her, was standing still, apparently deep in conversation with a crow perched on a low branch nearby.  The man, who had yet to utter a single word, stood nearby, watching their surroundings intently.  "Aly?" she asked, hesitant, extremely confused, and not least of all exhausted.  "Can you please tell me what's happening?"

Aly looked up at Lianne and, as far as she could tell, so did the crow.  In the darkness, she couldn't entirely tell how her interruption had been received, but the smile in Aly's voice when she answered set her slightly at ease.

"Right.  Did _you_ know you were getting married in three days?"

"I had an idea."  Lianne said, sitting uneasily on a nearby rock and removing one slipper for inspection.  "I was trying to leave."

"I figured as much.  You wouldn't have gotten very far on your own."

For a moment, Lianne felt the rising urge to object.  She had, after all, gotten out of her room on her own and to the stairs all right!  But, she also knew, that was largely by accident, and Aly had only caught her in the first place because she had waited so long, unsure of where she was going.  She decided it was probably better not to argue, and didn't reply.

"You're lucky you got out when you did," Aly went on, leaning up against a tree and looking as if she was doing her very best to not seem tired.  "The guard changes at midnight – that's why we had to wait.  Normally, there would have been a lot more."

Lianne nodded as if this all made sense to her, though she was still very confused.  She couldn't even begin to figure out how Aly had known any of this, or why she was even present.  She wasn't sure she'd get an answer if she asked, either.  "These are basically useless," she said instead, holding up the tattered slipper in her hand carefully, to prevent it from falling apart all together.

"I have some things stored a little further in," Aly said, nodding vaguely in the direction they had been heading before stopping, "But there's no point in trying to get there tonight.  It's too dark."

"Where are we going?"

"Rajmuat."  After carefully nudging small stones away, Aly slid down the tree and settled herself on the ground, much easier among the unusual vines and plants than Lianne was.  "I live there.  I can find you somewhere to hide until we can find a ship to take you home.  It might not be easy; ships almost never go home out of the Islands.  Kalasin's still in Carthak, isn't she?  You might have to go there first."

"I'm not sure where she is, but she's somewhere in Carthak."  Lianne hesitated, tucking her bare foot beneath the tattered hem of her skirt.  "But – if I go too far, no one will be able to find me when they come to take me home, will they?"

Aly was quiet for several minutes, staring upwards into the vines above with seeming great interest.  "I don't know what's happening at home.  I got word that Rukhev had left, but he was already back by then, and on his way here.  No one mentioned you being missing at all." 

"But me even being here is grounds for war."

"I only found out you were here at all because of a – friend."  Aly looked down now, meeting Lianne's eyes.  "They're not coming.  I don't think they know you're gone."

In all her many hours of sitting and thinking about how she would get home again, Lianne had never considered that someone wouldn't be coming for her.  Now, even in the presence of a friend, she felt even more alone than before.

"Try not to worry about it," Aly went on, seemingly unconcerned.  "I know a lot of people here.  You'll be home soon enough.  Try and sleep, we're still pretty far inland."

Dazedly Lianne shifted to the ground, resting her back against the stone.  She knew instantly she'd never be able to get comfortable, but already felt her body begin to drift away.  To much had happened in to short a time; she would at least need several hours sleep before she would be able to process anything.  Before shutting her eyes, she glanced left, and saw no one.  "What happened to your friend?"

Aly's eyes were already closed; she did not open them to look.  "Nawat sleeps when he wants to.  He's probably off getting food."  She yawned, then added, "Don't worry.  I have lookouts all over."

Lianne couldn't keep herself from worrying, but tried to sleep none-the-less.

-

**January 30, 463 H.E. - 23rd year of the reign of King Jonathan IV and Queen Thayet**

**Corus, Tortall**

-

As he had expected, the stable was completely vacant when Liam arrived.  It wasn't surprising; very few of the palace's inhabitants made a habit of visiting their horses at daybreak, unless they were on specific business.  Typically, those leaving so early were couriers who needed as much daylight as possible.  It was almost unheard of for anyone to depart from the Royal Stables, where Liam's horse was kept, before breakfast.

It was perhaps because of this unusual change in tradition that the holster that opened the door for Liam shortly after the five o'clock bell was so cranky.  Respect kept him from complaint, but Liam could hear the holster grumbling to himself as he went about preparing his tack.

He had just begun to saddle his horse, Nolan, when Alan arrived, bearing a saddle bag over one shoulder and a heavy looking satchel in the opposite hand.  Depositing the bags on the ground, he leaned against a wooden support beam near Nolan's stall and watched Liam tighten a strap silently.

Liam glanced at him over Nolan's back, the lantern hanging nearby shadowing his friend's face sharply.  He looked about as terrible as Liam himself felt, which wasn't all that unexpected; as far as he could knew, neither had slept at all since the previous morning.  "Finished everything?"

"I wrote a letter explaining everything," Alan said, scratching the side of his nose nonchalantly, "And then _accidentally_ dropped it behind my desk.  Couldn't reach it, either.  Pity."

"Well, at least we can say we explained ourselves when we get back."  Off Alan's look, Liam explained, "We didn't lie, we didn't withhold information.  We're fine."

"Oh, is that all it takes for you to get out of trouble, then?  I'd be looking forward to a nice, long imprisonment when I go home, but my mother's going to kill me, so that'll be right out, won't it?"

Despite the light tone to his words, Liam looked at Alan over Nolan's back seriously, the idea behind the words striking him more than the statement itself.  "You don't have to come.  You shouldn't if it's going to –"

"Oh, shut up," Alan cut him off, though a smile ghosted briefly across his face.  "You'll brood to death if I let you alone.  I'm coming."

"Me too," someone added.

Jasson made a clear effort to look innocent as both sets of eyes turned to him; as it tended to be, the expression was complimented almost instantly by a long-suffering sigh and a roll of the eyes from Liam.

"You are not.  What are you doing here?"

"I'm here to remind you that I'm going with you," Jasson said, hands in his pockets.  "Seeing as you were about to forget to bring me along."

"No you aren't," Liam snapped, turning away and securing his saddle bag with perhaps more force than was necessary.  "Go back to bed."

"If you don't bring me I'll go straight inside and tell everyone where you're going."

Liam turned back around quickly, looking to his brother sharply.  "You will not," he said, voice clipped, "Because if you do, we'll be stuck here, and Lianne will be stuck wherever she is, and if something happens to her it will be entirely your fault."

Jasson glowered, and Liam, for a brief moment, couldn't help but wonder if he had spoken too quickly, and that Jasson might just follow through with his threat to spite him.  Faced with this somewhat worrying possibility, he hurried to calm the situation before it blossomed into a full blown argument.  "Besides," he offered, tone – he hoped – much more sympathetic.  "You couldn't come anyway.  You're still in service to haMinch until someone takes you as a squire."

"You take me then," Jasson shot back, eyebrows arched skeptically, "If that's what you're so worried about." 

Despite better efforts, Liam could not hold back an exasperated sigh.  "You know I'm not allowed.  Stop being difficult on purpose, we have to go."

"I'm allowed," Alan said, not entirely meeting Liam's eyes.  "I'll take you on, Jasson."

Liam looked at Alan in surprise; out of the corner of his eye, he could see Jasson looking at him in much the same way.  For a moment, no one spoke, and Alan shifted uncomfortably in the silence.  

"Don't just because he's threatening to turn us in.  He won't really."  Liam, speaking first, reinforced this statement with a glare towards Jasson, who ignored him completely.

Alan shook his head.  "No.  I was thinking about it before, actually.  It's tradition.  Backwards."

"One time does not make it a tradition."

"Twice will," Alan insisted, though Liam wasn't sure how truthful he was being.  "It'll be a _fine_ tradition between our families for generations to continue."  He paused, glancing to Jasson.  "Though – I'd rather skip the secret romance, if you don't mind.  You're not my type at all."

Though his blanch somewhat ruined the effect, Jasson shot Liam a triumphant, and mildly smug, smile.  "If you try and make me stay, I'll just follow you by myself, anyway."

In reply, Liam stared crossly at the wall for a moment, searching his mind for some way around this and finding nothing of the sort.  He finally sighed and returned to saddling Nolan, shaking his head slightly.  "I want it known that I think this is a terrible idea."

Alan nodded decisively.  "It's known.  Jasson, go get your things.  I have to talk to haMinch."


	16. To Sea

-

**February 9, 463 H.E. - 23rd year of the reign of King Jonathan IV and Queen Thayet**

**The****Azure****Sea**

**-**

Under normal circumstances, Lianne loved sailing.  She didn't get to go nearly as often as she liked, but when she did, she always regretted having to set foot on dry land again.  So it really wasn't fair, she couldn't help but think between sulks, that despite being at sea for the first time in ages, Lianne couldn't manage to enjoy herself at all.

Aly was still insisting on being as obtuse as possible, much to Lianne's frustration.  While she had moved beyond ignoring questions asked of her, she still only replied in vague and unhelpful terms.  Lianne had been particularly annoyed when Aly had informed her, over the dried fruit which was serving as their breakfast, that she had known of Lianne's whereabouts through 'a friend'.  Though Lianne pressed quite creatively for more information, she received none.  Giving up, she had left the small cabin they were sharing in favor of the fresh air of the deck.

The boat they sailed on was, as far as Lianne could tell, a trading vessel, though she couldn't be sure.  Aly was, as per the norm, tight lipped about the specifics of who they were traveling with and how she had managed to buy them passage.  Lianne had tried to ask some of the men she had encountered on the ship, but they had only stared at her with dark, slightly suspicious eyes, and it did not take her long to realize they could not understand a word she was saying.  She had given up relatively quickly.  A part of her knew that she was moping and being a little childish – after all, she wasn't captive anymore, at least, was she? – But that didn't stop her from moodily staring at the shore in the distance with only slight interest.

_They're not so bad,_ she couldn't help but admit, sweeping her eyes over the distant shores and the hills beyond them which, even in the slightly foggy midmorning, were a lush, vibrant green Lianne did not often see in Tortall.  She knew from lessons that the highlands of the Copper Isles were not nearly as beautiful, and were actually quite inhospitable, but thus far she had seen only jungles.  Admittedly, she had also only seen two islands, and one only from the ship, but Imayhn Island, which they were working their way around, was scenically as lovely as Jerykun had been.  She wished she had first visited on better circumstances.  All things considering, Lianne knew she would return home with a sour opinion of the Isles, and doubted she would ever feel the urge to return, no matter how pretty they seemed.

"You seem sad," someone said.

She glanced sideways just as Nawat reached the deck's railing.  His eyes were dark and questioning and Lianne, uncomfortable by his gaze, looked back towards the distant land.  Though they had yet to really have a conversation, she had seen him watching her on more than one occasion since their first introduction, bright and early the morning following her rescue.  The unusual intensity of his gazes unnerved her.  "I wish I was home," she admitted after a moment, bracing her forearms against the wooden railing.

"Oh, yes." Nawat turned and rested his back against the railing bonelessly, looking with vague interest towards the grey sky.  "Aly has told me all about Tortall.  It sounds like a very nice place.  I would like to visit."

"It is nice," she agreed, homesickness making her throat feel suddenly tight.  "It's different though.  Milder, for one thing.  And we don't have nearly so many mountains."

"You don't like mountains?"

Lianne couldn't help but smile slightly.  "No, I like them alright.  Just not these.  I won't be sorry to leave, when I do.  I don't like it here."

He looked at her askance, clearly curious.  "Why not?"

"I didn't exactly come here on my own."  She sighed, tucking hair pulled from her braid by the wind back behind her ear with mild irritation.  "If it had been up to me, I'd never have come at all."  Nawat was silent, and after a moment, Lianne went very red, and looked at him, embarrassed.  "I'm sorry, I'm being rude.  I forgot this is your home."

Nawat smiled for what Lianne thought was possibly the first time she had seen.  It was a nice smile, she realized.  "I don't mind," he told her, looking back to the clouds.  "I'm not as picky about countries as you and Aly are."

For a few moments, Lianne said nothing, instead pretending to be very interested in the worn toes of the boots Aly had given her.  "You and Aly are friends then?" she finally asked, looking up.

"We're friends," he said offhandedly.  "She has told me that in Tortall, men and women are often friends without mating."  A brief silence followed, and Nawat looked at her again, puzzled by her expression.  "Isn't that true?"

"It's true," Lianne said, still looking at him a little oddly.  "Your people don't do that?"

"We are much more concerned with mating," he answered after a moment.

Lianne wasn't entirely sure how to reply.  She looked out over the water, resting her chin in her upturned palm.  "That seems a little unusual," she finally said.

"Yes, but Aly says I am getting better."

-

**January 31, 463 H.E. - 23rd year of the reign of King Jonathan IV and Queen Thayet**

**Port Caynn, Tortall**

-

Liam supposed it was only a very short matter of time before his father started scrying for him, or his horse turned itself around of it's own accord and marched itself right back into the waiting, probably very annoyed arms of Daine.  He wasn't sure how to prevent this yet, especially being scryed, but knew if there was a way to stay hidden, Alan would find it.  Their inquiries as Prince Liam and Sir Alan had yielded no results at all.  Unruffled by Liam's frustration, Alan had taken Jasson and vanished some hours before.  He had been sure that where Sir Alan would find no answers, Alan Cooper would.  Of course, he was now pulling entirely different strings, ones that Liam knew virtually nothing about.  He found Jasson, just as ignorant, being taken along supremely irritating, and was doing his best not to think about four years of the same.

The fact that he hadn't set foot beyond the yards of the inn at which they were staying for hours was doing little to distract him.  The weather was unseasonably mild, and most of the inn's residents had left for the city to take advantage of the relatively warm air.  He hoped whoever occupied the room directly below his had followed suit, as his pacing was surely incredibly annoying.  Occasionally, he would cast a glance towards the desk against the far wall, where a half finished letter lay, mocking him.  He had planned to use the time to send word back to the palace.  Nonchalance, Liam had hoped, would lead his parents to believe that they had really just gone riding for a few days and forgotten to mention their plans.  This excuse would completely fall apart when held to the light of day, of course, but he hoped it would buy him a little time.  Jasson's presence complicated the matter greatly – a concern he had voiced to Alan, only to be placated and then ignored.

Knowing the mechanics of the palace as well as he did, Liam had no doubt that Alan taking Jasson as a squire had become instantaneous gossip.  News concerning the 'big names' of the Palace was golden among the gossip circles.  Liam could only imagine the excitement among the halls now that rumors could be shared about a child of the King and child of the Lioness in one breath.  With a vague sense of amusement, he wondered who learned of Jasson being taken on first: his father or the woman who did his laundry.

Scanning what he had written so far, Liam sighed, folding his arms as he considered the half-a-letter before him.  So far he had avoided any mention of Alan and Jasson, which seemed suspicious now that he was re-reading it.  _Alan and Jasson are bickering, of course, and…_no_._  True, but it wouldn't work.  It made the unlikely pairing seem even more forced.  He sat uneasily in the desk's chair and tried to think of a better alternative.  _Alan and Jasson are off looking at shields while we're here.  Apparently his old one isn't in very good condition._  This was better, especially as Jasson wasn't particularly known for impeccable care of his equipment.  Liam leaned over and wrote it down.

Behind him, the door opened, and Liam turned just as Jasson poked his head into the room.

"We found someone," he said, unable to conceal the triumph on his face.  "Alan says to bring money."

-

While Liam, admittedly, had grown up on the sheltered side of life in Corus, he was fairly sure the cramped, noisy market Alan was carefully navigating them through would be considered disreputable by any standards.  As far as he could tell, the street served as a market for those residents of Port Caynn who might not find themselves inclined to shop in the city's actual market district, where they would be subject to unseemly rules like the law.  Alan had warned him to physically hold his coin purse as they moved, and he now understood why.  Around them, the din of haggling and general conversation had risen enough to block his ability to hear anything useful.  Side stepping dilapidated stalls, Liam followed mutely.

They continued single file through what seemed to have been the center of the chaos.  Now, the further they went, the thinner the crowds became.  Liam was extremely grateful for this, and then more so when Alan steered them off the street entirely, and into a dark, but comparatively well maintained building.

They stopped just inside the door and Alan, hands in his pockets, looked at Liam with an odd expression on his face.  "Hear me out before you say no."

Liam, startled, raised his eyebrows, looked from Alan to Jasson, who was doing his best to appear nonchalant, and frowned.  "An excellent method to inspire confidence." he finally said, mouth turning upwards into a wry, guarded smirk.  "I commend you."

"No, it's…" Alan sighed, making a face and trying again.  "This is a little unorthodox, but it was all we could find.  I think we might have to just go along with it."

"What what?"

"Branding," Jasson supplied, something akin to glee spreading across his face at his brother's obvious discomfort.

Alan, upon seeing Liam blanch, glanced sideways and informed Jasson curtly, "Don't talk."

"We're being branded?"

"No."  Alan ran a hand through his hair uncomfortably, and Jasson, about to object, was quieted by the dangerous look shot in his direction.  "It's not _branding._"

"Brandin' is for slaves," a mildly amused voice commented, "This is differ'nt."

The man, when they had all turned enough to see him, was lurking in the room beyond the entrance hall they stood in, hands clasped behind him and one bushy brown eyebrow raised inquisitively.  The dim lighting cast deep shadows over the man's heavily lined face, and though his tone had been friendly enough, something about the appraising glint in the man's eye set Liam on his guard.

"You're all buyin', then?"

Alan nodded and the man, with a grin that prominently displayed a chipped front tooth, turned and moved back into the room from which had had come.  Liam, jaw set, looked at his companions skeptically.

"Trust me," Alan assured him, clapping him on the shoulder in a light-hearted manner and leading him into the room.  "It'll be a wonderful conversation piece.  Girls will love it.  They'll fawn.  It's practically a battle scar."

Liam took the cluttered workroom before him in with a measured glance, gaze lingering on the low wooden tables cluttered with books, bowls, and crystals, on the few wooden chairs scattered about the room, and on the candles – or more specifically, the candlesticks – which cast the room in flickering light.  It was plain to see not a single one matched.  "_What_ is?"

"It's call'd an Arcana," the man broke in when Alan hesitated to answer, head down as he carefully picked his way through an open wooden box on the furthest table.  He was silent for a few moments more, speaking only after pulling a small silver object from the box and shutting it again. "You're lookin' not to be found?  This'll do it."

"Is that some kind of charm?"  It was definitely metal, that much Liam was sure of, but even as the man advanced on him, he was unable to make out the specifics of the small object.

"No," the object still clutched in one hand, the man reached for Liam's left arm with the other, and Liam stepped backwards without thinking.  He was rewarded with an eyeroll, and the man let both of his hands drop to his side, turning his gaze to Alan instead.  "I'm not waitin' on him f'rever."

For a half second Liam could see anger plainly on Alan's face, even in the bad lighting, though he was unsure who it was directed towards.  As quickly as it had appeared it had vanished, and he was casually opening his coin purse and sorting through its contents.  "No, we're serious.  I'll pay now.  Will that be enough?"  The man nodded.  Alan began picking coins out one at a time – gold ones, Liam noticed – and glanced up, meeting the questioning glance being aimed in his direction cheerfully.  "Demeyson has assured me he's the only one in the city who can inscribe the Arcana we need.  There you go."

The man – Demeyson – accepted the coins Alan handed to him and counted them out in his palm quickly.  "You're short," he accused.

"That's thirty gold nobles, as we agreed." Alan said, one eyebrow quirked.

"Price is forty-five."

"Forty-five?" Jasson exclaimed incredulously.  "You said it'd be ten each!"

"I said that.  But that was o'er three hours ago.  Now it's fifteen."

"You can't just – "

"Jasson," Alan cut in, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"– _raise_ the price like that without – " he went on, undeterred.

"Jasson." Alan repeated, more firmly.  His tone effectively ended the protests, and he looked at Demeyson levelly.  "I'll paying what we agreed on."

"Oh?" Demeyson made a show of pocketing the object in his hand, shrugging as if he couldn't be bothered.  "You won't find no one else what can hide you like this.  But as you please.  Smart lad like you can find the door wit'out bein' shown, yeah?"

"He's bluffing," Liam said, feeling his patience growing thin.  "There are plenty of mages here."

"None what'll hide you wit'out a permit," Demeyson countered with a tone so casually confident that Liam had to wonder if he was maybe entirely correct.  Alan, if his expression was any indication, had the same thought.  He stood very still for several seconds, hand still on Jasson's shoulder, before removing it and calmly counting out several more coins.

"You can't be serious," Jasson muttered, watching him.

Alan stepped forward and handed the coins over, smiling grimly.  "We don't have a choice.  Get on with it."

Demeyson, victorious and making no show of hiding it, once again pulled the metal from his pocket and reached for Liam's arm.  This time, though annoyed and fully aware they had been well and good cheated, he allowed him to.  He watched in stony silence as the sleeve of his shirt was rolled up and Demeyson placed the small metal object on the skin of his inner arm and then covered it fully with his hand.  For a moment, nothing happened – and then, as if from nowhere, he was struck with a searing pain so intense his knees nearly buckled.

For a few moments, his mind was completely blank of anything but a furious burning in his arm – and then, as quickly as it had come, the pain vanished, and his surroundings faded back in.  He could hear Jasson shouting about something – he must have made some sound from the shock of it - but he sounded very far away; he could see the yellow fire which had bloomed around Demeyson's hand gradually vanish, but didn't yet connect that it had been that magic which had caused hurt.  It wasn't until the hand was removed completely and he was able to see his arm that Liam fully returned to himself.

A dark blue mark stood out clearly against his skin, looking as if it had been painted there.  He didn't recognize the symbol.  An x about as wide as his thumbnail now colored the skin about half an inch below the crook of his arm; the two lower legs ended at points and then came back in to form a diamond pointing towards his elbow, while the two legs nearer his wrist ended at similar points, but turned outwards instead, forming a jagged line with two peaks.

"Are you all right?" Jasson asked, now at his side.

"You could have warned me," Liam could not help but snap, gingerly touching the mark, then rubbing his fingers across it when it did not seem to smear.  Alarm began to invade his thoughts, and he looked up quickly.  "Is this _permanent_?"

"No, it comes off." Alan said, watching Demeyson coldly.  "You said it would _sting a little_."

Demeyson chose to ignore Liam's incredulous snort and raised his eyebrows blamelessly.  "Not my fault the lad's got a thin hide."

"It's part of my skin," Liam protested, somewhat indignantly.  "How is it supposed to come off?"

A wide smile crossed Demeyson's face, and he replied, "Wit' a lot o' money."  A silence followed, and though all three boys were glaring at him fiercely, Demeyson seemed undisturbed.  "So," he finally said, breaking the quiet, "Which one o' you is next?"

Though he was looking a bit grey, Alan rolled up his sleeve.


	17. New Territory

-

**February 13, 463 H.E. - 23rd year of the reign of King Jonathan IV and Queen Thayet**

**Rajmuat****, ****Kypriang****Island****, the Copper Isles**

**-**

When she was younger Lianne had thought that Corus was the most exotic, colorful place in the entire world.  She was, of course, incorrect by a wide margin, something she now knew.  Even only looking upon the crowded streets of Rajmuat from the river, Lianne felt incredibly plain and out of place among all the sounds and smells and colors filling the air around her.

Their boat had sailed into the mouth of the river on which Rajmuat was located early that morning.  The small fishing ships with their colorful sails has caught Lianne's eye, and she had waited up on the deck as the boat was navigated through the harbor, staying as well out of the way of the men working to prepare their cargo as she could.  The river was busy; it was extremely slow going, making their way around the other ships.

"Cargo ships dock a little further up river," Aly said, joining her at the railing.  "But we should be there soon."

Lianne nodded, drumming her fingers against the wood.  "Where are we going once we're off?"

"My home.  I'm not sure if I'll be able to put you on a ship right away, and you'll be able to stay there."  Aly glanced at Lianne sideways.  "You will have to work there, though."

"That's alright," she said, frowning slightly and keeping her eyes straight ahead.   She wasn't entirely comfortable with the realization that Pirate's Swoop could be hundreds of miles away, but 'Aly's home' was presumably within walking distance.

"Also – once we get off this boat, you can't be Lianne anymore."

This startled her enough that Lianne looked fully at Aly, who was now looking back at her seriously.  "What?"

"Even if you weren't being looked for, which I'm sure you will be, being a princess of anywhere isn't particularly safe here right now.  Least of all Tortall."

"Oh," Lianne said, though she wasn't entirely sure she understood.

"It's bad enough, the way you look," Aly went on contemplatively, studying her.  "Maybe we should cut your hair."

"My hair?"  She knew it was vain and silly, but Lianne put a protective hand to her braid, eyes wide.

"And you'll need to pick a name.  A new one, one you'll remember to answer to.  If someone says Lianne, will you be able to not look up?  That would help."

"Aly," Lianne broke in, pressing her palms down against the wood to keep herself calm.  "_What is going on?"_

Aly halted just as she was about to speak again, closed her mouth, and frowned, searching Lianne's face for…for something, Lianne couldn't possibly imagine what.  She didn't say anything.

"I'm glad you're here and I'm glad you're helping me, but I still don't know how you found me!  And now you're telling me I have to go into hiding, but I'm not even sure who I'm hiding _from_ anymore. And…" she took a steadying breath.  "And it's not fair, you have to tell me."

"Don't try pulling rank here." Aly replied after a long moment.  "Servants can't, and that's what you are until you leave."

"I'm not pulling rank," Lianne snapped, annoyed at the attempt to change the subject.  "I'm pulling friendship.  You can't ask me to walk into this blindly.  You wouldn't.  I'm not leaving this boat ignorant."

There was another long pause before Aly spoke again, during which she took her eyes off Lianne and looked back towards the river and the dock they were gradually nearing.  "There are a lot of powerful people interested in you," she finally said.  "Some know you're here, but most of them don't, and it'd be better if it stayed that way.  The one I'm working for wants you out of the country _yesterday_."

"He's the one who told you where I was?" Lianne asked, for the lack of a better question.  Aly nodded, and she went on, "And I don't suppose there's even a chance you'll tell me who he is?"

Aly's lips twitched, almost as if she wanted to smirk.  "Absolutely not."

"I didn't think so."  They stood in silence as the boat was drawn up alongside the dock and tied down.  Aly straightened and started towards Nawat, who was now behind them, the small bundle of their possessions in his hands.  "Aly," Lianne said suddenly to her back, turning as well.  Aly stopped and looked back.  "I _am_ glad that you found me."

Aly smiled at her - genuinely, Lianne was relieved to notice.  "I know."

-

**February 1, 463 H.E. - 23rd year of the reign of King Jonathan IV and Queen Thayet**

**The ****Emerald****Ocean******

-

Liam watched the harbor of Port Caynn grow smaller and smaller on the horizon with a mixed sense of relief and foreboding.  On one hand, they were now off Tortallan soil, and it was extremely unlikely anyone would be able to find them. On the other – well, now they were off Tortallan soil, and it was _extremely_ unlikely anyone would be able to find them.  Alan had seen to it with great efficiency.

He had refused to make any promises that they wouldn't be at least partially followed – hiding from his father wasn't something many people _ever_ successfully accomplished, and there wasn't a chance they wouldn't be tracked as far as the inn, and probably Demeyson, as well.  Liam wasn't surprised – he couldn't imagine Demeyson or the innkeeper withholding any information if so much as a single gold noble was offered their way.  Where they went next, though – that Alan could try and muddle a bit.

The same morning their ship set sail for the Copper Isles, another departed for Carthak.  It was that ship that Alan, Liam, and Jasson had officially booked themselves on.  _Alan did most of the work_, Liam admitted.  He, for one, was not very good at all this subterfuge.  He had expected Alan to come up with some ingenious names for them to give, ones that would only reveal who they really were upon close examination.  He had also expected Alan would book them on a Carthaki cargo ship.  Much to his surprise, when it came time to put themselves down on a passenger's log, Alan had paid for full passage on a much more expensive merchant's vessel, and written all of their names down in full, with titles.

"They'll find us straight off!" Jasson had protested.

Alan had looked at them, amused.  "Oh, to be so young and uneducated.  Yes, they will.  After all, we're just taking a trip to see Kalasin.  Why wouldn't we go on a nice ship?"

True to the lie, Liam had added a bit about their intentions to surprise Kalasin on her birthday into his letter before he handed it off to a courier.  It was, again, an excuse that would fall apart under close examination, but the time it would buy them might prove invaluable.

The ship they were actually on was not nearly as nice as the one they would be tracked to.  Trade with the Copper Isles was extremely regulated, and out of from Port Caynn, it wasn't allowed at all.  Understandably, the smuggling ships that sailed in and out of the harbor on a regular basis, law permitting or not, were not very well maintained.  The cabin they had paid a ridiculous fee for seemed too small for one person, let alone three.  Liam knew already he'd be spending a good deal of the trip above deck.

"Where's Jasson?" he asked when Alan joined him.

"Seasick already," Alan replied, sitting casually on the lid of a nearby barrel.  "Not used to smaller boats, is he?"

Liam shook his head, smirking.  Jasson, of course, had been completely intolerable since the moment they had left, reveling in his brother's annoyance at who his new knight-master was.  It served him right, having to travel by boat.  "The only ships he can tolerate are anchored ones."

"Royalty," Alan sighed.  "So delicate."  He dodged the elbow jabbed towards his side with practiced ease.

"And your mother?"

Alan smirked.  "That's protection for the rest of us.  Just imagine if we couldn't hide on boats, at the very least."

Liam stepped away from the railing he had been leaning against and sat down on a crate a few feet away, knowing by Alan's expression that he had not managed to force the smile on his face to reach his eyes.

"She's fine." Alan said when the silence stretched between them for too long.

"I know," Liam nodded.

-

**February 13, 463 H.E. - 23rd year of the reign of King Jonathan IV and Queen Thayet**

**Rajmuat****, ****Kypriang****Island****, the Copper Isles**

**-**

It was a nice house.  Lianne wasn't sure why she was surprised to notice this, but the elegant, decorated interior of the home – of the manor, really – caught her eye the minute Aly led her through the front door.

Those who they passed greeted Aly warmly and stared at Lianne.  Most of the eyes on her were curious, some reserved, and a select few – she couldn't help but notice – quite cool.  Though Aly greeted everyone in return, she did not stop to speak with anyone, and instead led Lianne directly up a large staircase and through a pair of wooden doors at the end of the hall.

Inside, a brunette woman Lianne knew instantly _had_ to be a noble sat with a small boy, who was intensely focused on a thin book clutched in his pudgy hands, on her lap.  When Aly entered the room she looked up and smiled; the smile faded marginally when she noticed Lianne, becoming slightly more formal.

"Aly," the woman said, and at the noise the little boy looked up.  "I hadn't been expecting you back so soon."

"We made very good time through the strait," Aly offered as an explanation.  As she spoke she moved about the room, opening doors and peering into the rooms beyond casually.  "Lucky, too.  The sailors say there might be a storm coming soon."

The woman nodded and largely ignored Aly's movements, watching Lianne with dark, kohl accented eyes.  "You are the one who will be staying with us?" she asked after a moment, turning a page in the picture book before her.  The little boy's attention shifted away from Lianne instantly and returned to the bright colors before him.

Lianne began to curtsey when Aly, standing behind the woman, bowed pointedly and mouthed something.  Lianne corrected herself and mimicked the bow quickly, though she was only partially sure what Aly was trying to tell her.  "I am…Your Grace."

Evidently her guess as to what title Aly had been mouthing at her was correct, as the woman – the duchess – did not react to it.  "And what is your name?"

"Maera," Lianne replied with what she hoped was a convincingly nonchalant air.

"Aly has told me you are good with horses.  While you are with us, I am having our head holster look after you."  It was unspoken that Lianne would be paying for her stay in work.  She understood without the words.

"Thank you," she said, unsure of herself.  It made sense that the woman clearly didn't trust her – but Lianne found herself a little put off by it, all the same.

"Aly," the woman went on, glancing over her shoulder.  "I have some messages I'll need you to deliver tomorrow morning, so please come see me this evening."

Aly nodded and moved towards the door.  Realizing with a start that they had been dismissed, Lianne bowed again, and followed Aly out.  "I don't think she likes me" she confessed as they descended the stairs.

"She doesn't like most people she doesn't know," Aly said.  "We've had a very long year."

"Why is she letting me stay?"

"I've told her I was sent to bring you back for a short while."

Lianne raised her eyebrows.  "By whom?"  Upon receiving no response, she sighed.  "Oh, the mysterious friend.  Of course."

The grin Aly flashed at her was wicked, as if she thought it was a great joke.  "Come on.  We can get you some clothes that fit before I take you to the stable."

Somewhat cheered by the prospect of leggings she did not have to roll – the clothes she had been lent were Aly's, and too big for her – Lianne followed and did not question Aly any further.  She'd sooner save her breath, anyway.

-

Author's Notes: _138 reviews as I'm posting this – you're all wonderful!  Thank you, as always, _so_ much._

_Since a _lot_ of people wrote me to ask me a particular question, I'll put the answer here, for anyone who may be wondering._

_"Wait a minute, why can't Liam take Jasson as his squire?" you ask.  He's not allowed to.  "What?"  You say.  "I've never heard of that!"  Well, here's the thing: this is a little rule I've invented for Tortall.  It's not one that Tamora has specifically stated – so no, for those of you who asked – you didn't miss it anywhere in the books.  But she hasn't contradicted it either, which is why I don't feel bad about it._

_It's really all about practicality.  For one thing, they're brothers, and if you ask me, one brother being another brother's squire is a little sketchy to me – that's not the best arrangement for really serious training.  The older brother is either going to be much too hard or much too lenient.   It'd just be bad all around.  For another thing, they're both heirs.  Crowned princes, no, but heirs all the same.  We see knights taking their squires off to battle all the time, and personally, I think it'd be pretty dumb to let two heirs take part in the same battle.  What if it's a massacre?  So there you go.  Liam can't take Jasson as a squire because they're brothers, and more importantly, heirs.  It's too risky.  (Of course, our boys are pretty blatantly ignoring the good sense of this, but that's them.)_

_And for those of you who keep writing me and asking what Alan's deal is – don't worry, we'll get there._


	18. Hostler

-

**Unknown**

-

Lianne was learning to _hate_ this room.

Considering she was dreaming – and she must be, she reasoned, how else would she have gotten here? – it was totally possible she had only been sitting for a few minutes. Even so, back against the smooth grey stone and legs folded beneath her, Lianne felt as if she had been sitting and staring at nothing for hours.

Head angled back to rest against the cool surface behind her, she shut her eyes, taking a deep breath. Logically she knew that there should have been pain from her position – it could not possibly be construed as comfortable – but she felt nothing. She hoped she would wake up soon.

"I told you there wasn't a way out."

Lianne's eyes snapped open. She couldn't place the voice right away; it took a moment before she thought to look to the side. Calm brown eyes met her stare, and the little girl offered a grim smile.

"But I escaped." Her tone was protesting, nearly a whine.

The girl's smile changed, becoming more amused. "I know. Nice work on that door, by the way."

"I had sort of hoped that was the end of it." Lianne rested her head back against the stone once more, frowning at the opposite wall.

"Nope," With slightly awkward gestures _incredibly_ reminiscent of Lianne's youngest cousin, her Uncle Gary's daughter, the little girl unfolded her legs and stretched them out in front of her, toes tilting inwards and meeting together in a point. "I wouldn't count on it being the end of anything. I can't make you any promises, though." When Lianne did not reply, she went on. "But you took the initiative and got out. Good for you."

"The initiative?" Lianne's frown grew, and she looked sideways at the girl. "That word is a little big for someone your age, isn't it?"

The girl shrugged a shoulder, toes tapping together idly. "I go to school."

Lianne shook her head, eyeing the girl's bare feet. The movement was childish, and as far as Lianne was concerned, it suited the little girl. Words like 'initiative' did not, nor did the knowledgeable tone the girl spoke in. She wasn't sure what it was, but something in her mind didn't settle properly. "There's something odd about you."

"You're the one dreaming me," the girl sniffed, somewhat petulant.

"No," Lianne said slowly, eyebrows knitting together. "I don't think so."

"Suit yourself," the girl answered with a shrug.

They sat in silence for what Lianne guessed was probably several minutes, both watching the opposite wall. The girl continued to rock her feet back and forth; Lianne drummed her fingernails on the stone floor. "What do you mean, there isn't a way out?" She finally asked abruptly.

"I mean you can't get out."

"But I got in," Lianne protested.

"No," the little girl shook her head; her expression was just a little too amused for Lianne's thinning patience. "You were put in. There's a difference."

"Well _explain_ it to me," Lianne threw her hands out in exasperation, twisting her body slightly so that she was fully facing the girl. "I'm sure there's something you keep bringing me here for, but I don't understand what it _is_!"

"I'm not bringing you here," the little girl answered, brown eyes so innocent Lianne wanted to scream.

"Well who is?"

"Oh, you haven't met him."

Lianne shifted back to her original position, looking stonily at the wall. "Can I at least have a _name_?" She asked after the hazy frustration in her mind cleared. "His? Yours?"

"I'd tell you," the girl sighed, "But you'd ask so many questions, and you have to go now."

"Go?" Lianne repeated incredulously.

The girl nodded and pushed herself to her feet, dusting off her shift with prim movements too childlike to be entirely sincere.

"Where am I going to go if there's no way out?"

"Well...there is the one way." The girl offered a knowing smile, and though Lianne had been trying very hard to keep her patience, she was certain she had reached the end of it.

Her shoulder jostled itself of its own accord.

-

**February 14, 463 H.E. - 23rd year of the reign of King Jonathan IV and Queen Thayet**

**Rajmuat, Kypriang Island, the Copper Isles**

**-**

Whoever was shaking Lianne's shoulder wasn't making much of an effort to be gentle about it.

Between sleep-blurred eyes and the dark surroundings, she couldn't make any sense of the figure leaning over her cot. Only after several moments of slow blinking was Lianne able to see the face peering at her in the darkness and realize it was Aly.

"Come on," Aly whispered, straightening. "I need to talk to you."

Wearily Lianne pushed the blankets away and stood. As her feet hit the floor she was once more struck with gratitude that, at the very least, it was warmer here. At home, waking up at who knows what hour and walking around in a tunic and leggings only, she would have been freezing.

When Lianne looked up, Aly was already walking towards the door. She didn't look back – Lianne supposed she had better follow her. Even barefoot, she felt the need to tiptoe down the row of cots. Everyone else in the room seemed to be asleep – Lianne wondered, with only a touch of sleepy aggravation, just how early it was.

Aly was waiting outside the door, and closed it silently when Lianne stepped into the hallway. There wasn't a great deal more light to see by in the hall – most of the wall sconces had almost entirely burnt out – but there was enough that Lianne could see Aly was already fully dressed and seemed quite awake.

"I wanted to talk to you before everyone woke up," Aly offered by way of explanation.

"What time is it?" Lianne resisted rubbing her eyes, but only just. A yawn worked its way from her throat.

"It's almost five. At half past pretty much everyone in this wing will be awake."

Lianne took a breath and bit back the grumpy reply that tried to slip past her lips, instead asking as good naturedly as possible, "You couldn't have talked to me then?" Half awake and exhausted, that half an hour's sleep sounded unimaginably luxurious to her.

Aly flashed a quick, crooked grin in her direction, leaning sideways against the wall casually. "You'll be busy, trust me. Anyway, I'm going to gone most of the day; I wanted to tell you before I left."

"Where're you going?"

"I'm going into the city with Sarai." Aly glanced down the hall behind Lianne. "I'll find you again around dinner, though."

"Who?" Lianne asked.

"Oh, no one." Aly said, waving a hand dismissively. "You probably won't meet her. Now, listen," She took a breath, casting a serious glance towards the top of Lianne's head. "You really won't let me cut that?"

"No," Lianne said resolutely, frowning. "It's my _hair_, and I'd have to explain why it was short when I got home, and it's not as if I wouldn't look like me without it anyway."

Aly seemed to be about to argue, and then shrugged, clucking her tongue against her cheek. "Fine. It probably wouldn't make much of a difference anyway. But do me a favor and put it all up, at least, would you?"

Lianne knew she was probably being a little silly about her hair; it wasn't even as if she especially took pride in it. For whatever reason, though, the idea of cutting it all the way to her chin like Aly had wanted horrified her. She had thought about it for a very long time before going to sleep the night before, and had finally decided she hated the idea so much because she knew that for months after, every time she looked in the mirror she would remember everything, and all Lianne wanted to do was go home and forget. "I promise," she nodded. "I'll do it right now."

"Good." Aly pushed away from the wall and stood straight again, adjusting the belt around her waist as she did so. "Just keep it up, stick to the story, and try not to talk too much, if you can avoid it. If you keep to yourself enough, most people here will forget all about you once you've gone."

As much as she would have considered that a very strange goal under normal circumstances, Lianne nodded mutely.

Aly grinned again briefly, then turned and started down the hall. Several feet away she paused and looked back, adding, "Oh, and don't let anyone talk you into trying the sauce. It is _not_ mild. Actually, be careful with most of the food." With that slightly foreboding comment, she left.

Lianne returned to the servant's chambers, resigning herself already to eating very little.

-

It turned out that looking after one horse was considerably easier than looking after twelve.

Lianne hadn't been too concerned about working in the stables, initially. She had a horse at home, and it was an unspoken, unbreakable rule that she was to take care of him herself. Even with the slight differences in grooming techniques and tack, she had expected that looking after a horse in the Copper Isles would be the same as looking after a horse in Tortall. She just hadn't accounted for having to look after an entire stable.

Even with several other, much more experienced hostlers going about the business at the same time, Lianne was terribly busy. It seemed that every time she had a spare moment, a new rider would come in, or a horse would need to be saddled, or unsaddled, or watered, or a stall would need to be mucked out, or a blanket would need to be aired.

She had wondered, initially, if maybe the other hostlers were testing her, breaking her in, since it was her first day. After all, as far as they knew, she was a permanent addition to the stables, wasn't she? It hadn't taken her long to look around and realize that no, they were just as busy as her. The entire household seemed to be parading in and out of the stables, and all the running around made her dizzy. The day wasn't even half over and already her hair was coming out of the braid coiled around her head and her fingers were raw.

"Is it always this busy?" she had asked one of the hostlers – a dark skinned man whose name she couldn't remember.

He had looked at her with raised eyebrows and a wry smile. "So long as the sun rises in the east. Welcome to the city."

Fingers red and sore, she scrubbed the saddle resting across her knee wearily. Lianne hadn't been told what the last rider had done with this saddle, but she privately wondered if he had just thrown it in the mud for the sake of it. Thick dried dirt was caked everywhere, and every time she thought she had gotten the last of it off, she would discover another pocket of mud beneath a flap. She sighed heavily, working on scraping the mud gathered around the saddle's horn off.

"There was an awful storm last week," someone said. "Mud got all over everything."

Lianne looked up. Standing a few feet away, watching her with dark eyes, was a girl who looked about twelve or thirteen years old. It took half a second for Lianne to realize that she couldn't possible be a slave, or another servant for that matter. Her clothes were much too fine, and not at all practical for working. Lianne knew that logically, she should probably have some answer for this, but her mind went treacherously blank.

"You're new, aren't you?" the girl asked, "The one Aly found? I heard her talking about you."

Lianne nodded slightly, unsure whether she should get up and bow or not. "I am – my lady." She could only hope that the last bit wouldn't sound too much like a guess; but then – she couldn't imagine the girl as anyone but a member of the household, not considering how she looked.

"It's a lucky thing she found you," the girl said. "We could use the hands."

"_Obviously_," Lianne sighed without thinking. She flushed a moment later, barely managing to keep a hand from clapping over her mouth as she grimaced and looked down. "I'm sorry, my lady, no disrespect meant." _You're not at home_, she reminded herself fiercely.

"That's alright. It's true. What's your name?"

Lianne glanced up hesitantly. The girl's eyes were piercing and intelligent, but didn't seem too angry. "Maera," she said.

"You look familiar." The girl went on.

"My old home was very far away," Lianne ducked her head slightly under the girl's measuring gaze, uneasy. "I don't think we would have met before, my lady."

The girl shook her head. "No, I suppose not. Well, welcome."

Lianne offered her hesitant thanks as the girl left, and then sighed heavily, looking back down at the saddle in her lap. She wasn't sure why, but she had the feeling she had missed something important in that conversation.

-

True to her word, Aly had found Lianne at dinner, and had set Lianne's worries to rest. The girl's name, Aly had told her, was Dovasary - Dove; she had gone on to confirm Lianne's suspicions that Dove was nobility – the duchess' daughter, as it turned out.

Lianne had been worried that she might have given something important away in the brief conversation, and even though Aly had assured her that everything Lianne had said Dove would have found out on her own anyway, she couldn't shake the fear.

They had parted ways again after a meal consisting mostly of Aly warning Lianne what food not to touch. Lianne did hazard a bite of a vegetable and noodle dish that looked relatively harmless, and vowed never to again once she had eaten enough yogurt to cool her tongue off. As had been the case for most of the day, the other servants – and even the slaves – mostly ignored Lianne entirely, even as they chatted casually with Aly. She kept her head down and tried to seem unobtrusive; the less people who took notice of her, she reasoned, the better.

After helping to make sure all the horses had been settled into their stalls, groomed fed properly, which took quite some time, Lianne returned to the servants' wing. She guessed it was a little after nine in the evening when she finally sat down heavily on her cot. Between the busy day and the few hours' sleep she had gotten the night before, she was exhausted; she realized with a start that she hadn't even had time to be homesick all day.

She was dozing, drifting further and further towards real sleep, when Aly let herself into the room for the second time that day. Lianne, drawn back to wakefulness by the greeting one servant offered Aly, sat up as the approached. The smile Aly had offered to the others in the room faded as she drew nearer, and Lianne tensed, worried.

"Take a walk with me," Aly said, expression somewhat grim.

Lianne stood quickly and followed her from the room, noticing right away that the minute Aly turned back around; the smile reappeared on her face, and did not leave as they walked down the hallway.

It took a great deal of effort not to panic as she hurried alongside Aly in silence. Scenarios ran through her mind; had she been discovered? Would she have to run and hide in the city? Had Dove found out more than they had realized and told someone?

She didn't realize they were headed for the stables once more until they had already reached the door. Aly pushed it open and stepped inside; Lianne followed closely behind.

The stable was lit only by lanterns hanging from wooden beams overhead. Aly didn't say anything, and it didn't take long for Lianne to realize why. Standing several feet away, a little further down the row of stalls, and looking as confused as she felt, was Liam, Jasson, and Alan.

-

**Author's Notes:** Or, as I should possible call them, Author's Apology. I'm sorry for the delay on this one, guys. I would tell you all the absolutely insanity that has gone down in my life the last few weeks, but I'm sure in print it'd read like a bad soap opera, so I'll just leave it at this: things have been hectic. Never fear, though! I have pretty much all of chapter 19 in my head, I just need to put it down. Stuff's going to happen soon – in fact, it's already started. So keep putting up with me, yeah?

As always, a million thanks to the reviewers, to Hikki and Caitie, who are excellent betas, to Jen, co-founder of care bear land and who helped me add the New And Improved Chapter Titles, and to all the Dovies. Also, and I will do this shameless self-plugging only once, if you're ever looking for more stories on Liam, Lianne, and Jasson, I've just recently posted a one-shot about them as much younger kids. There's even canon basis for this one! That would be 'Of Centaurs and Practice Swords', and it's up on my author page. I'd really appreciate the reviews from anyone who has time to check it out. Sooooo, until next time.

And P.S. – You guys can keep emailing me all you want asking if the good ship Alan/Lianne will be setting sail, but_ I'm_ _still not telling._


	19. Reunion I

-

**February 14, 463 H.E. - 23rd year of the reign of King Jonathan IV and Queen Thayet**

**Rajmuat****, ****Kypriang****Island****, the Copper Isles**

**-**

The part of Lianne's brain which she generally held responsible for coherent thought seemed to have taken a very sudden and inconvenient holiday.  Entirely of their own accord, her feet rushed forward, her arms flew out, and before she could totally register what she was doing, her hands were wrapped around Liam's neck and she was hugging him fiercely.  For several moments, they stood very still; her arms wound around his neck, his around her waist, and she was swept with a sudden feeling of deep relief that made even the aching in her neck and shoulders fade away.

Then, as soon as that emotion rose up within her, a new one took its place, and she stepped back abruptly once her mind began to work again.  She looked from Liam to Jasson to Alan, who was looking past her – presumably at Aly – with a very closed sort of expression, and struggled to vocalize the question stubbornly clinging to the tip of her tongue.

 "What are you doing here?" The words flew from her mouth without permission - though once she had asked, it did seem like the best place to start.

"What are _we_ doing here?" Liam repeated, the smile slipping away and his face quickly shifting towards astonished.  "What are _you_ doing here?"

"I was _kidnapped_," Lianne said, staring at him.  "What's your excuse?"

"What, you were kidnapped by Aly?"

"Oh, you caught me," Aly drawled somewhere to Lianne's left.

Lianne pursed her lips.  "Aly rescued me.  _Hiresh_ kidnapped me."

"I knew it!" Jasson said, triumphant.

"Of course you knew it," Lianne pressed her fingers to her temple and cursed the headache she knew was about to hit her.  "Otherwise you wouldn't be all the way out here, would you?"

"We came to find Aly," Liam explained.

"On a whim?"

"_No,_" Jasson said, shooting Lianne a look that implied their reasons should be quite obvious.  "We thought she might know where you are."

A sudden thought struck Lianne, and she frowned at Jasson.  "You aren't even allowed off palace grounds."

"Why would you think," Aly began, still out of Lianne's sight, "_I_ would know where she was?"

"You're joking, right?" Alan asked, speaking for the first time and looking incredulous.

"I'm a squire, Lord haMinch's punishment doesn't hold."  Jasson cut in.

Lianne blinked, startled.  "Whose?"

"Mine." Alan said, glancing at her sideways briefly.

"But –"

"Don't ask," Liam cut Lianne's puzzled question off with a slight shake of his head

"Did you get permission to come after me?" she asked instead.

Liam looked slightly uncomfortable.  "Yes."

"Liar," Lianne retorted.

"Well at least it's her," Jasson's muttered comment made almost no sense to Lianne, and she raised her eyebrows at him. 

"All right, stop." Alan's voice was clipped and sounded tired.  He was running a hand through his hair and looking exasperated when Lianne turned to him.  "Look, we came here to find you," he said, addressing Aly, "So you could help us find her – you already have, excellent, that makes everything _much_ easier."  He glanced about, adding.  "Can we please just take that at face value for now?"

Lianne nodded along with her brothers, though she was a bit surprised by Alan's apparent lack of patience.

He visibly relaxed a little in the shoulders and offered a very thin smile.  "Thank you.  Now, excuse us."  He crossed to Aly in long strides and drew her aside further down the row of stalls.  They began conversing immediately, though the tones they spoke in were too low for Lianne to hear what was being said.

She turned to Liam, slightly more composed now that the mutual interrogation had been at least put on hold.  "I'm sorry," she said after a pause.  "I wasn't expecting you to be – um - here."

"We didn't either," he said, glancing briefly as Jasson.  "We had been planning to get Aly as a guide and then start asking around the city.  You were in the Palace?"

Lianne shook her head, taking a few steps forward and then wearily sinking down onto a bale of hay pushed up against the wall.  "I wasn't even on this island."

"How'd you get here, then?" Jasson asked, tone demanding.

"On a boat?" Lianne knew the reply was weak, and flushed slightly under the nearly identical skeptical looks it earned her.  Fiddling with the hem of her tunic, she took a few steps towards a low bench set between a gap between two stalls.  "Believe me, if I could make sense of anything that's happened in the last few days, I'd tell you.  Aly's –"

"No, I think this is a _perfect_ time to talk about it."  Alan's voice, sharp and sounding angrier than Lianne was generally accustomed to, momentarily rose enough to be heard.  Lianne couldn't see anything other than his back, but it was tense, and just beyond his arm, Aly looked thunderous.  Her reply was too quiet too be heard, but the tight line of her mouth was telling.

"What?"  Jasson sat down beside Lianne on the bench carelessly, his question drawing her eyes away from the apparent argument.

"She hasn't been exactly forthcoming.  She barely tells me a thing."

Jasson reached for her hand, turning it over in his own critically.  "It must be frustrating, not being told anything.  How'd all this happen?"

"Mithros," Liam sighed, rolling his eyes skywards briefly.  "I get the _point,_ all right?  Just…let it go."  At Lianne's quizzical look, he went on, "He's been on about being 'kept in the dark' the whole trip."

"Well I was!" Jasson protested.

"From scrubbing," Lianne said, holding her hands out before her and greatly hoping her topic change – a not all together subtle effort, she knew – would be noted.

"Scrubbing what?"

"If you would stop being so stubborn and _listen_ for once –" Aly snapped.

Alan cut her off abruptly, voice carrying extremely well.  "To _what_?  You aren't telling me anything!"

When Aly's voice was once again too quiet to be heard, Lianne was left sitting in silence and looking in the general direction of the pair curiously.  Beside her, Jasson shifted and Liam, leaning against a nearby stall, cleared his throat very quietly.  Lianne didn't need to look to know they, like her, were both watching.  After a beat, the trio exchanged mildly uncomfortable glances.

"Ah…" Lianne began, looking from one to the other.  "Do we know what this is about, then?"

Liam shook his head, running a hand through his hair awkwardly.  "Not a clue.  He was happy enough to be seeing her before we got here."

"Maybe he's upset she didn't tell us Lianne was here," Jasson said knowledgably.

"How do you figure?" Lianne asked. "We've only been here two days."

Jasson shrugged, nonchalant.  "Oh, well, I'd just imagine he'd be frustrated, not having been _told_, and all."

"Jasson," Liam said slowly, eyes closed and a long suffering expression across his face. "Just…leave it alone, all right?"

"Besides," Jasson went on, undeterred, "There is a certain bond between knight-master and squire that –"

"Oh, shut _up_."

"Right," Lianne, still somewhat confused, sat up a little straighter and looked from one to the other.  "Can someone explain how you and Alan suddenly get on well enough that you're actually his squire?"

"Who said anything about us getting on?" Jasson asked.

Raising her eyebrows, she chose her words carefully, "Well…maybe I've gotten the wrong impression, but I always sort of thought that type of thing worked better when you didn't constantly bicker."

Jasson rolled his eyes.  "We do not constantly bicker."

"Yes, you do," Liam wearily retorted.

"You really do, Jasson," Lianne couldn't help but add.

"Jasson is Alan's squire," Liam pointedly began, effectively silencing Jasson, who was looking extremely defensive and had opened his mouth to argue, "Because he was being _very_ stubborn about us leaving, and it got to the point where we could either bring him legitimately or leave him behind as a liability."

"_Liability?_"  Jasson looked outraged.

"Well you either would have told or followed –"

Lianne raised her hands and finally snapped, "_Stop_.  I can't take it anymore.  Either stop fighting or just don't talk to each other, I don't care."

The two boys exchanged looks, both having the decency to at least look nominally sheepish.  Liam, after a pause, finally sat down on the bench as well, which Lianne took as a potential truce, at the very least.  "Sorry," he said.  "Two weeks on a very small boat…"

"You'd be cross, too."  Jasson finished.

In the brief pause that followed, Aly's voice was just loud enough to be audible as she said, "Please don't start on that _again._"

"I _am_ glad you came." Lianne, uncomfortable with the frequent awkward lulls, spoke mostly just for the sake of the noise.  "I didn't think anyone was going to."

"Why wouldn't we come after you?" Liam asked, looking to her in surprise.

She shrugged, tracing a blister on the palm of her hand absently.  "Aly said she didn't think anyone knew I was missing."

"Oh, that," Liam said, as if conceding a point.  "Well, yes."

Lianne looked at him, raising her eyebrows and making a concerted effort to soothe her own annoyance.  She wasn't sure what it was that kept almost half of what anyone said to her lately from making any sense, but was beginning to classify it as her least favorite of the unfortunate growing trends in her life.  "I don't follow."

"There's this…fake you at home."

"A fake me?" Lianne repeated, wondering if she had perhaps misheard.

"Right," Jasson cut in.  "It looks just like you –"

"And acts," Liam added.

"I was _getting_ to that," Jasson said, making a face before he continued, "And acts just like you, and, you know, is running around being you."

"How does that work?"  Lianne asked, swallowing a knot in her throat.  The knowledge that someone else was off living her life at home – and managing to stay largely undetected, it seemed – was already working its way into the back of her mind and settling there unpleasantly.  A slight shudder drew goose bumps across her forearms.

"It's some kind of living illusion," Liam explained.  He must have sensed Lianne's unease, and the comforting hand he laid against her back did make her feel a little better.  "Like a mirror image.  Except it doesn't have any magic."

"That's how I realized it wasn't you," Jasson said

The emphasis Jasson had placed on being the one to see through the illusion did not go unnoticed by Lianne, and she rested her hand briefly on Liam's knee, applying slight, placating pressure and hoping the look she gave him would be enough to hold off another disagreement.  "I've never heard of anything like that."

"It's called a simulacrum."  Alan said.

Lianne looked up.  Unnoticed by her, he had moved to stand several feet away, resting his weight against a wooden beam.  Despite the casual look to his loosely folded arms, his shoulders were tight and his face too expressionless to see natural.  Able to recognize this quiet, controlled sort of anger, Lianne didn't want to risk making it worse, and said nothing.

"Right, that's it," Liam nodded.  "I can't ever remember that."

"It's basically a magical copy of every part of you.  It's tricky to make one of someone else, and ever trickier to attach any sort of Gift to one.  Other than that, the good ones are flawless."  Off Lianne's puzzled look, Alan went on to explain, "Numair's excellent at them, so of course Thom was completely obsessed for months.  Wouldn't shut up about the things."

"Where's Aly?" Jasson asked, abruptly and, Lianne thought, rather tactlessly.

Alan seemed to share the opinion, making a face at Jasson and sighing ruefully. "Why are you here?  I make my own problems."

"You make mine, too." Liam reminded him.

"Aly is off finding us food," Alan said, tipping his head to rest against the wooden beam along with the rest of him wearily.  "So we can at least eat on the road."

Jasson slumped in his seat, slightly stunned.  "We have to leave already?"

"Oh, we shouldn't have even come, what were we thinking," Alan proceeded to go on as if rattling off a list, "Have I looked in a mirror lately, have I looked at either of you lately, she's only a servant, she can't put us up here…"  Interrupted momentarily by Lianne's extremely skeptical and quite unladylike snort, he allowed a small grin for the first time, nodding.  "That's what I think."

"She's completely…" Liam began to mutter, then paused as he thought better of it.  Instead, he glanced sideways, meeting Lianne's eyes.  "Do you have anything you need to get before we leave?"

"Actually," Alan said, face going tight again, "She's not coming."

-

**Author's Notes: **Don't kill me!  Another cliffie, I know, I know, BUT!  Instead of a crazy long wait, for which I am immensely apologetic for, like the one between the last chapter and this one, chapter 20 will be up by April 13th _at the latest._  Send all thanks to Hikki, ladies and gents, who sat down and betaed what turned out to be a chapter so big I had to break it up into two.  Without her, teh storie wuld look like this.  See you all in two days with the second half!****


	20. Reunion II

_He glanced sideways, meeting Lianne's eyes.  "Do you have anything you need to get before we leave?"_

_"Actually," Alan said, face going tight again, "She's not coming."_

"What, are you joking?" Jasson asked.

At nearly the same instant, Liam protested, "Of course she's coming!"

Alan held his hands up before him, defensive.  "I tried.  You're welcome to have a go, but she's dead-set.  Apparently, Lianne," his tone changed and he went on as if reciting a passage, "Will be safest here, where she can keep an eye on her and make sure no one knows where she's gone."  Voice returning to its normal state, though perhaps laced with more sarcasm than was totally necessary, he added.  "Because of course we're completely incapable."

Liam, who out of habit generally didn't swear in front of either of his sisters, expressed his opinion with a few very colorful, quite vulgar words.  On Lianne's other side, Jasson nodded his agreement.

"Yes, well, you're _more_ than welcome to try and talk her around," Alan said.

"Maybe she'll listen to one of us," Liam offered.

Lianne, once she was entirely certain the stinging in her eyes was under control and she would _not_ lose her composure, shook her head slightly and cleared her throat.  She supposed she had been a little naïve to automatically expect Aly would allow them to stay.  "She won't.  It took me three days to even find out where we were going.  Maybe you _should_ just go."

"Where, home?" Alan's expression shifted quickly from shock to disbelief and then finally to one of mild reproach.  "She's not _that_ convincing.  We're staying in the city."

"Yeah, don't be stupid." Jasson added.

Despite the glares shot his way by both Liam and Alan, Lianne, after a brief, slightly stunned pause, laughed.  It was a slightly uneven laugh, and a weary one, but one that made the heavy weight on her chest and shoulders seem somehow less.   "You have no manners at all," she told him, reaching up to muss his hair only because she knew he would find it patronizing and be incredibly irritated.

He dodged, nearly slipping from his seat in the process, and looked innocent.  "You missed me most.  Admit it."

"Here." Aly had come up beside Alan silently, and handed him a cloth bag with little ceremony.  "All set?"

"In a minute," he said, pulling back the flap and looking inside.  "Tomorrow – you'll remember?"

Aly didn't make much of an effort to conceal her impatience.  "I'll remember.  Look –"

"We're leaving," Liam assured her with a frown.  He stood, somewhat stiffly, and though Lianne could no longer see his face, Aly's reaction was enough to lead her to suspect he wasn't trying too hard to conceal his disapproval.

Aly, face going so utterly devoid of expression that Lianne suspected she was internally furious, shoved her hands into her pockets and blinked at him.  "I'll keep an eye open for ships that might take you all." She said.  "You wouldn't mind maybe having to split up, would you?"

"Yes," Liam said shortly.  "We would."

"Well, then, it'll take longer," Aly said, voice idle.  She was, Lianne was almost positive, taking a great deal of care not to look even remotely in her brother's direction, though Alan was watching her closely.

Jasson, whose patience – clearly slight to begin with – was visibly decreasing bit by bit, stood as well.  "We might be able to find one on our own."

"Maybe," Aly replied, shrugging. "Let me know if you do.  Lianne, I need to go before someone wonders where I am." She met Lianne's eyes now, something in her look implying that 'I', in this particular case, was to be interpreted more accurately as 'we'.  "Be sure to take them out here, or you'll have to explain them to another set a guards."  With a brief nod towards the wide stables doors, she made her goodbyes and left.

The pause which followed was neither brief nor particularly comfortable.  Liam and Jasson made a visible effort not to look at Alan, who was staring silently at the door through which Aly had departed.  Lianne, when she wasn't stealing glances at the three boys, watched a spot on the ground with great interest.

"This bread looks funny," Alan finally said, just as the silence was beginning to grow unbearable.  He held up the sack, finally turning away from the door to glance at Jasson pointedly and not, Lianne noticed with relief, without a faint glint of humor in his eyes. "I'm not trying it first."

"You can't make me eat that."  Jasson was so busy folding his arms irritably that he barely managed to unfold them in time to catch the sack as Alan tossed it in his direction.  "I'm not your poison taster."

"Consider it your first exercise on survival in hostile environments." Alan told him.  "Don't worry; I don't expect Aly's any good with the _really_ fatal poisons."

Expression bordering on mutinous, Jasson reached into the bag and pulled out a chunk of bread which did, indeed, look a bit strange.  He eyed it warily for a moment, eyes lingering on the hard crust embedded with dark seeds, before taking a tentative bite.  His apprehensive frown cleared slowly, replaced with a mildly disgusted one.  "It tastes like wood."

"Be thankful," Lianne told him.  "The rest of the food here is made up almost entirely of pepper."

"Bland is fine," Liam said, reaching into the sack and helping himself to a piece.  "So long as it's food."

"I was going to eat that," Jasson said around a mouthful of bread.

Liam rolled his eyes.  "There are three of us, and that's disgusting."

"They've been like this for days," Alan sighed, speaking low enough that neither of the pair, clearly rapidly heading towards another argument, could hear.  "Do you suppose it's too far to swim home?

Lianne turned and looked at him, fighting a smile.  "I don't expect we'd ever dry out."

He nodded, apparently thinking this over.  "Well," he said after a moment, brightening.  "They aren't that heavy.  We could pitch them overboard.  Will your parents mind?"

"Doubtfully," she said. Unwilling to risk attracting the attention of either of her brothers – still debating how the food was going to be divided – she struggled to keep laughter out of her voice.  "They love me best."

Alan did not further the joke, as Lianne had expected him to.  In fact, she wasn't entirely sure he had been listening – his gaze had shifted downwards and stayed there.  "What happened to your hands?" he asked.

"Oh – I was scrubbing saddles all day," she said, holding her hands out before her and frowning at them.  "I had thought they'd stop looking so red once I stopped, but they're still sore.  And so pretty."

Unannounced, he reached for her hands, gripping them lightly in his own for a moment and then turning them over and examining her palms.  "What were you scrubbing with, thorns?"  He didn't bother looking up as he spoke, intent on his assessment of her hands.  Gingerly tracing one particularly painful blister with his thumb, he added, "Whatever you were using, you must have been holding it too hard."

"I didn't think so at the time…" she sighed.  "I'm not even sure I was doing it right.  You'd be surprised how many little places mud can get."  Even as she was saying it, Lianne was distantly aware that he probably did, but before she could amend herself, a very distracting coolness spread through her hands and into her wrists.  She looked down; dull blue fire was spreading from Alan fingertips and seeping into her skin.  Even with her palms mostly obscured, she could see the raw, swollen bits of skin on her hands slowly returning to normal.

"Make sure you aren't gripping so tightly, next time," he said, turning her hands over in his own once the fire had receded.  Critically he held them up, looking over his work.  Then, squeezing them once, he let go and met her eyes once more.

Lianne swallowed, finding something both unusual and unsettling about his gaze, and looked down; quite unsure of what she was supposed to say, though she had a nagging suspicion it was something specific, she flexed her fingers in front of her silently, looking for any traces of her previous blisters and raw skin and finding none.  "Thank you," she finally said, deciding it was the safest reply, though the feeling that it was inadequate remained.  She looked up.

"They would have felt even worse in the morning," he shrugged, expression having returned to normal quickly enough that Lianne wondered if she had perhaps imagined the change.  Voice assuming a valiant tone, he went on "Besides, I would be failing my service to the crown if I allowed blisters to mar the royal hands."

The hands in question settling on her hips, Lianne made no effort to keep from rolling her eyes, though she couldn't help a small grin as well.  "I'll make sure you get a medal." 

He looked past her, comically grim.  "Get me something to eat, it'll be worth more."

Liam and Jasson, Lianne realized upon turning around to see what had Alan so dismayed, had seemingly moved on from disagreeing over food to disagreeing over one another's existence entirely, and Jasson looked about ready to use the fruits Aly had provided as weapons.  "Do me a favor," she said, coming between them and reaching for the sack before either could do any damage with it.  "Make sure to spend at least five or six hours away from each other before I see you next?"

"We're leaving," Alan said, coming up behind her.  "I'm under orders."

Liam took Lianne by the elbow, guiding her towards the smaller door the guards used as he spoke.  "I'm coming back tomorrow," he said, keeping his voice low.  "If she has anything to say about it, tell her –"

"Tell her she knows what she can do," Jasson muttered, opening the door.  Ignoring Alan's look of warning, he glanced at Lianne, touched her arm briefly, and said "I'll see you tomorrow," before stepping out.

Alan made to follow him, momentarily glancing to the ceiling as if appealing for help.  "Actually, you'll be coming to us.  Make Aly explain."  He nodded to her once, offered an encouraging smile, and stepped through the doorway as well.  Lianne could hear him casually telling the guards good evening as he went.

"Listen," Liam said, hesitating at the door and look at her seriously, one hand on each of her shoulders.  "Be careful.  Don't let anyone here talk you into anything.  I'll see you tomorrow, first thing, all right?"

Lianne nodded, though a part of her mind could not help but protest, insisting it was absolutely _not_ all right at all.  "I'll be fine," she heard herself say.

A strange, unreadable expression on his face, Liam looked at her another minute, unblinking and serious, then hugged her tightly.  Though she found herself quite unwilling to let go, Lianne took a step back after a moment, smiling thinly.  Offering a smile that did not quite reach his eyes in return, Liam left.

It took more effort than she would have thought to bring herself to pull the door shut.  Her arm felt abnormally heavy as she reached for the handle and pulled, and when the latched clicked into place, her stomach lurched.  She turned; the stable looked just as it had before – perhaps a bit darker, but otherwise unchanged.  Yet, what only hours before Lianne had considered it the most impossibly busy area she had seen in ages, she now found cold, uncomfortably silent, and unbearably lonely.

Throat tight and her entire body feeling as if made of lead, Lianne returned to the house.


	21. Market Town

-

**February 15, 463 H.E. - 23rd year of the reign of King Jonathan IV and Queen Thayet**

**Rajmuat, Kypriang Island, the Copper Isles**

-

Despite reassurances from Aly - who seemed to be greatly enjoying _her_ breakfast - Lianne was certain she saw something sinister in the bowl before her. Rice and eggs were innocent enough, she supposed, but the small bits of red and green breaking up the beige mixture worried her. Though allegedly not spicy at all, she was reminded all too painfully of her previous attempts at stomaching the local cuisine, and a tiny voice in her mind shouted in panic every time she so much as glanced at a utensil. Rather than risk singing her tongue once again, she resigned herself to a breakfast comprised entirely of thankfully unoffensive honeyed rolls.  
  
Across the table, Aly was entirely too enthused with her breakfast to be sincere, just as the night before she had been so eager to go to bed that Lianne doubted she was really tired. She had noticed the slightly unnerving phenomenon then, but hesitated to bring it up over the relaxation of the long table. At either elbow, servants she estimated to be somewhere in their twenties spoke to Aly between mouthfuls of their own breakfast. Lianne suspected it wasn't more than casual conversation, but as both bore accents too heavy for her to regularly understand, she wasn't positive. Rather than interrupt and possibly cause a reversion to Aly's increasingly common tight lipped persona, she ate her bread in silence and watched the table.  
  
It was taking a great deal of willpower to not flat out demand an explanation as to how she was supposed to be seeing her brothers, as promised. The temptation to kick her friend beneath the table until she received some sort of answer was incredibly strong, and only marginally overpowered by the knowledge that Aly and Alan - whom Lianne was certain had organized most of whatever was supposed to take place - had not parted on the best of terms. She had decided even before going to bed that broaching the subject would require cunning and great diplomacy - it was a shame, she also decided, she didn't posses much of either.  
  
"So, then," she finally said, taking advantage of a lull in the conversation and speaking across the table in what she hoped was a very nonchalant manner, "I suppose I'll go back to the stables now?"  
  
Aly, hand paused halfway between her bowel and her mouth, looked across the table as if Lianne had asked the color of the sky. "Don't be ridiculous," she said, sounding surprised. "Why would you go there? We're heading into the market."  
  
Bewildered, Lianne opened her mouth to ask why, exactly, they would want to do that. Before the words had reached her lips, Aly's eyes flicked almost imperceptibly to Lianne's left. She realized, after a very long, puzzled moment, that Aly's strange behavior was somehow related to their dining companions. Lianne closed her mouth, looked back to the table, and continued shredding her roll.  
  
-  
  
When Aly had stopped her just outside the gate to the Balitang estate, pulled an eye-catching red cloth from her bag, and declared that it was meant to go around her head, Lianne had been certain she was joking. Even after Aly had wrapped the cloth around Lianne's head and shoulders - and commented several times on how, with a hair cut, it wouldn't have been necessary - Lianne remained unsure as to how such a bright material could possibly help her be _less_ conspicuous. It was only when they left what Aly referred to as the 'estate district' and entered the appropriately named Market Town did Lianne realize her head covering was on the duller end of the spectrum.  
  
Almost immediately upon passing through the gates of the market district, Lianne realized her preconceived notions about color were all wrong. It was everywhere; the street they walked - which Aly identified as the market district's main road - was more colorful than anything Lianne could ever recall seeing. Men and women, skin growing increasingly darker the further they progressed, milled about the stands set up alongside the road dressed in hues she wasn't sure she had ever seen before. The more elaborate stands and shops often displayed small, colorful flags hanging in strings from their doorways and sign posts. Only Aly's persistent hand at her elbow kept Lianne from stopping and staring around her, and she found herself thinking on several occasions that her wrap, lacking some of the elaborate patterns that other women passing by could boast of, was actually rather boring.  
  
Ahead, she could just make out a very noisy crowd which seemed to be milling around something out of sight. As they drew nearer, the air began to smell faintly of burnt wood. Through brief openings in the crowd, Lianne caught glimpses of what looked to be the extremely blackened foundation of some sort of building; before they reached the fringes of the onlookers, Aly made a sharp turn and led Lianne - quite deliberately, she thought - down a side alley. They emerged onto a street quite similar to the first. Hand still on Lianne's elbow, Aly began quickly in the same direction that had been traveling.  
  
"What happened over there?" Lianne asked.  
  
Aly shrugged casually. "Looks like a fire. A lot of these buildings are very old. Stop." Her outstretched hand prevented Lianne from moving any further; ahead, a scuffle broke out at a small, cheap looking jewelry stand. When the shrieking had been quieted and the small boy apparently responsible chased off, Aly started forward again. "Happens all the time."  
  
"Oh," Lianne nodded, unsure if Aly was referring to the fire or the apparent thievery.  
  
Further down the road, a very large, dark skinned man was shouting enthusiastically about fish. "Don't make eye contact," Aly warned in a low voice as they drew near. "They'll never let up if they think you're interested. No, thank you." She held up a palm to the man as he turned his attentions on them and shoved a very large sample of his wares in the direction of Aly's nose. "Already ate. No, she's not interested, either."  
  
Nose crinkling slightly at the extremely strong smell waved in her direction, Lianne kept her eyes resolutely fixed on the ground until they had passed and the man had moved onto another target. "Suppose markets are the same everywhere, then," she mumbled.  
  
"Usually." Aly agreed. "Watch your head."  
  
Before she could totally process the advice, Aly made a quick turn around a building, and Lianne only just avoided smashing her head into an extremely low archway as they hurried down several steps. The next several minutes passed similarly; Aly led them through a series of rapid turns behind haphazardly organized shops and Lianne did her best to keep from wounding herself on any of the archways, awnings, or uneven ground. Well after she was certain that they would never be able to find the street again, Lianne found herself quite abruptly stationary, largely due to Aly's back - which she had accidently walked straight into.  
  
"Are we here?" she asked. Over Aly's shoulder, Lianne could see a small square, much quieter than the rest of the market and lined with stalls which generally looked to be in better condition than those on the main streets.  
  
"Mmm. Take this," Aly said, face turned downwards and she pulled some paper and what looked like a coin-purse from her bag, "And this, and give them to that man. He'll know what to do with them. I'll be here."  
  
Lianne looked across the square at the man Aly had indicated. His stand was quite large, and she imagined he was probably a very established merchant. "But I don't - "  
  
"Li_anne_," Aly cut her off, pressing the purse into her hands and reaching around to tuck the paper into her pocket, "You're a princess of the most powerful country in the Eastern Lands. He sells fruit. Just go."  
  
Gathering herself, Lianne started into the square with what she hoped was confidence and nonchalance. She didn't notice her steps gradually slowing and becoming more tentative until the man, now only several feet away, looked up and saw her slow approach. "Aaah!" he said, smiling and waving her in. His eyes, Lianne noticed right away, flickered more than once to the purse clutched in her hands. "Come on, come over. What can I interest you in?"  
  
"I - ah, here." Lianne fished the paper from her pocket and held it out. Was there etiquette one was supposed to follow at fruit stands? She wasn't sure.  
  
"Oh," the man, taking the paper and looking over it quickly, frowned slightly. His accented voice, Lianne noticed, shifted very quickly from friendly to businesslike. "Chenaol's girl, are you? You're late."  
  
Lianne found herself flushing, despite the voice in her head that protested it wasn't _her_ fault. "I'm sorry, I - "  
  
The man waved the apology off impatiently, still looking over the paper. "You tell her I'm not holding her order every time one of you girls dawdle. Wait here." Before Lianne could reply, he turned his back to her and began busying himself with something on the table behind him. Somewhat confused and completely unsure what she was expected to say, Lianne looked awkwardly down into the baskets of fruit lining the ground in front of the stall.  
  
Several moments passed before someone murmured "Nice hat," directly into her ear.  
  
Lianne jumped and turned so quickly that she collided with the man standing behind her. Strong hands gripped her forearms to steady her, and she looked up, flushing further under Alan's amused stare. "That was impolite."  
  
"Well I do like it," he said, dropping his hands once she had gained her bearings. "It's a nice color. I'm not sure how it'd go over at home though."  
  
"It was this or let your sister cut my hair," Lianne said, tone slightly accusatory as she touched the edge of the wrap self-consciously. "And _that_ would not go over at home at all."  
  
Alan moved to her side, reaching down into one of the baskets and pulling from it an extremely large orange. "She's just trying to start a trend," he said idly, examining the fruit. "Do they come this big naturally?"  
  
"Not at home they don't." She turned back to the stall, sighing. "What are you doing here?"  
  
"I'm your escort. Didn't she tell you?"  
  
Lianne shook her head and glanced over her shoulder, scanning the crowd for Aly. "No . . . we just started walking."  
  
"Hmmph." Alan, apparently deciding the orange was suspicious, returned it to the basket. "Pay."  
  
She looked forward. The man, who had turned around once more and was placing a large crate on the wooden stand before him, was glancing in her direction expectantly. "Oh!" Somewhat startled, she held the purse out uncertainly.  
  
The man gave her a strange look and took it, then selected several coins from within and pocketed them. "Right then, you tell Chenaol what I said."  
  
"A lot of money for fruit," Alan observed, scratching his nose and looking casually towards the sky.  
  
"It's out of season," the man snapped, thrusting the purse back and looking skeptically in Lianne's direction. "Are you going to be able to carry this?"  
  
She had just opened her mouth to reply when Alan cut her off. "Have it delivered," he retorted. "You can afford it. Come on." Hand around her own, he led Lianne from the stall and the merchant, scowling after them with tight lips but making no objections.  
  
"That was _very_ impolite," she scolded when they were out of earshot.  
  
"He swindled you." Alan assured her, releasing her hand. "Next time, take the money out of the bag."  
  
"I don't have market skills," she said defensively, walking quickly to keep pace. "Shouldn't we find Aly?"  
  
"Oh, I saw her." Leading them in quite the opposite direction from where Lianne had last seen Aly, Alan seemed unconcerned. "She'll catch up later. Now listen - if Jasson were to mysteriously vanish, would you be very upset?"  
  
"I am a bit fond of him," she allowed, letting the change of subject pass without comment. "That's treason, you know."  
  
"It'd be worth it," Alan decided.  
  
-  
  
Several hours later, during the third argument concerning the etiquette of bluffing, Lianne set down her tea, looked across the small table which served as the only real ornamentation in the room the three boys had found for themselves, and announced, "I've changed my mind, Alan. I won't be upset at all, and I absolve you in advance."  
  
"What?" Jasson asked.  
  
"Nothing," she said brightly, glancing sideways at him. "We're only discussing your unfortunate demise. But by all means, keep arguing, don't let me interrupt."  
  
"Would it be treason if _you_ did it?"  
  
"Fratricide," Liam offered over the top of his cards, sounding extremely unconcerned.  
  
Jasson scowled around the table, reorganizing his hand. "I'll be ignoring you for that as soon as we get home."  
  
"So noted," Lianne nodded.  
  
-  
  
"I still don't really understand," Lianne sighed, nudging a small stone with her toe.  
  
Alan shrugged, leaning back against the stone wall of the shop bordering one side of the alley. "She's a bit concerned about your looks. She thinks the three of you together would be a bit distinctive."  
  
"Well, yes, I suppose," she began, turning her eyes to the orange sky, "If we were in Corus. But who _here_ is going to pick us out of a crowd and think, 'Oh, look. Tortallan royalty!'?"  
  
"Someone looking for Tortallan royalty?"  
  
Lianne shrugged and did not reply, instead stepping towards the end of the alley and glancing anxiously down the street. "Shouldn't she be here?"  
  
"She probably lost track of time," Alan said, unsuccessfully keeping worry from his face. "She'll be here."  
  
"It's just - I could just ask someone how to find my way," Lianne began, plucking nervously at the edge of her wrap. "It's almost dark."  
  
"She'll be here," he repeated, taking her hand and tugging her away from the street. "You can trust Aly, she knows what she's doing."  
  
Lianne looked up at him in the fading light, eyebrows slightly raised. "You two are all right, then?"  
  
Alan shrugged. "We've always looked at things differently. She prioritizes differently. Doesn't mean she doesn't have good intentions, does it?"  
  
_That's not an answer_, Lianne thought, frowning. "Mm," she allowed, uncertain, eyes drifting downwards towards the ground.  
  
"I really do like this," Alan said after several moments of silence. He nodded towards Lianne's head when she looked up once more. "Bet you could make quite a fashion of it at home. All the girls would want one."  
  
She made a face. "It'd look terrible with a gown."  
  
"But its fashion!" He assured her grandly, "It's supposed to look ridiculous, isn't it?"  
  
Lianne flashed a quick grin. "Oh, is that why you dress the way you do?"  
  
"Oh! That was uncalled for." Alan sniffed, not looking at all offended.  
  
"I doubt it," a voice muttered from behind them. "Keep your voice down."  
  
Lianne glanced over her shoulder; Aly had appeared at the alley's entrance, face grim and something clutched tightly in her hand. She looked, Lianne realized after a moment, more on edge than she had appeared to be in the whole of their time together.  
  
"All right?" Alan asked, frowning and dropping Lianne's hand.  
  
"No." Aly said shortly, closing the distance between them in a few long strides and extending what looked like a notice in their direction. "Copies of this were delivered to every noble residence and posted all over the city an hour ago."  
  
Alan took the paper and glanced over it. From her angle, Lianne wasn't able to make out any of the words - a few letters she recognized, but her mind didn't seem to be able to make sense of the small, upside down writing. Still, even without knowing what the notice said, Lianne could recognize from the official looking seal at the top and the bold signature scrawled across the bottom that it was most definitely some sort of official announcement. She looked up and blinked, surprised; Alan had evidently finished reading the notice and was looking at Aly with wide eyes.  
  
"What?" She asked, moving to read the notice over his shoulder.  
  
_Let it be decreed that until further notice, no vessel shall be permitted to exit the harbor without a full inspection of passengers and cargo by Royal_ . . . Lianne froze, suddenly feeling quite cold as the words she had been reading registered in her mind. Her eyes moved to the bottom of the paragraph, reading quickly . . . _as ordered by His Royal Highness, Prince_ . . . She glanced upwards again, breath catching, . . . _No vessel shall be permitted to exit the harbor_ . . . And then down several lines, . . . _person or persons discovered trying to sail from the harbor without approval shall be severely_ . . . The seal, the Royal Seal, stamped to the top of the notice, was mocking her and Lianne felt as if the ground had slipped away from beneath her feet.  
  
"_Lianne_," someone said sharply.  
  
She let out a quick breath and looked up, returning to herself in an instant. "This isn't because of me, is it?" She asked, seeking reassurance she already knew would not come. "This is something else, isn't it?"  
  
"We need to go back." Aly said, looking from Alan to Lianne quickly, mouth tight. "We - I need to think about this more. Take that, let them know. I'll come see you tomorrow. We'll figure something out."  
  
Alan nodded, rolled up the notice, touched Lianne's shoulder in a manner she absently realized was meant to be reassuring, and was gone before she had a chance to completely process what was going on.  
  
"Wait, I don't - " she began.  
  
Aly started towards the street, glancing briefly over her shoulder as she moved. "Come on - we should be in before they light the lanterns." She paused at the end of the alley, turned fully, and after a moment said, "Lianne, we need to go."  
  
Lianne shook herself from her daze and followed quickly. As Aly led them through the slowly darkening streets, all she could do was run the words over and over again in her mind.  
  
_No vessel shall be permitted to exit the harbor._  
  
-  
  
**Authors Notes:** Still with me after that psycho absence? YAY! Thank you. I apologize.  
  
The story, if anyone is interested, goes like this: Chapter finished, computer infected, Dad angry, data completely wiped, chapter lost, Tia sulking, Chapter re-written. That is, at least, the gist of it. Serious apologies to everyone for the wait.  
  
Also, today's not so subtle plug brought to you by my livejournal: tailyn - that's me. (I'd provide a link, but ff.n wont let me. Try: wwwlivejournalcom/users/tailyn, with the s replaced as periods.) I can tell I have a long, boring summer ahead - would love some extra people to talk to! If anyone's interested, it's friends only - just say you're from FFN.


	22. Decisions

-

**February 16, 463 H.E. - 23rd year of the reign of King Jonathan IV and Queen Thayet**

**Rajmuat, Kypriang Island, the Copper Isles**

-

The next morning dawned terribly. Fog had rolled in from over the ocean during the night and left the city in a dismal state; drizzle fell steadily from the sky, occasionally punctuated by periods of real rain, and the air took on a chill which persisted even as the day drew on. Those slaves and servants required to venture in the city had done so early in the day, and by late morning, the entire household - it seemed to Lianne - had holed itself up behind the shuttered windows with the sole intention of discussing the proclamation of the previous day.

The conversations had begun in whispers the night before as small groups of friends formed around fires and bowls of supper. Lianne, still in a slight daze, had avoided hearing many of the whispered rumors circulating by skipping the meal and going straight to bed with the distant hope that the news would have settled by morning. At breakfast the whispers had evolved into murmurs, and the woman standing behind Lianne in the line informed her companion that she had heard that some sort of underground movement had been discovered smuggling priests of forbidden temples out of the city. At work in the stables, Lianne had hummed tunelessly to herself in a feeble attempt to drown out the voice of the man repairing a neighboring stall. Evidently unconcerned who may have been listening, he loudly complained to his friend in the hay loft and announced several times that the new inspections would put his father - a fisherman - in the poor house.

By mid-day Lianne was certain that if she heard another word on the matter, she would be physically ill. Not only was the edict still the most prominent topic of conversation, but after so many hours, the members of the Balitang household had stopped bothering to keep their voices down all together. Alone at the long table, Lianne found herself actually longing for Aly's unerring lack of information.

"...be something important," a voice remarked quite clearly. Lianne turned slightly in her seat and glanced over her shoulder; a woman who looked to be about in her 40s sat at the next table over, flanked on either side by two servants and addressing two more, who sat with their backs turned. She went on, "Those Carthaki merchants won't have any patience for inspections."

One of the fellows facing away from Lianne said something around what was presumably a mouthful a food, and received an elbow in the ribs from the man next to him in reply.

"Don't be ridiculous," admonished the woman, sounding superior. "They'll close the district gates soon - just watch."

A headache approaching, Lianne returned her bowl, despite it still being mostly full, pocketed the orange she had been given with the stew, and hurried from the dining hall before she could hear any more.

The stables were all but empty when she arrived; the few hostlers who remained through the meal sat in a corner playing cards, and did not look up. Worn and desperately longing for the quiet of her own bedroom, Lianne sought out one of the unused stalls, shut herself inside, and sat down heavily on the straw matting. She pulled her legs to her chest and dropped her forehead to her knees, taking a slow breath. She was fine; she was certainly not panicking. She was - no, that was a lie. She was frightened without entirely knowing why, when she came around to admitting it, and privately thought she deserved a good panic anyway.

Several minutes later, just as her mind was working on its third horrible scenario involving the Prince swooping in upon the stables and carting her off to a secluded island for the rest of her life, Lianne was interrupted by a voice from her left. "Are you all right?"

"I'm _wonderful_," Lianne muttered darkly into her legs. Glancing up a moment later, she flushed and clambered quickly from the floor, stumbling over her words in an effort to correct herself. "Uh – I'm sorry, m'lady, I – I'm fine, thank you – I ...meant to say."

"Oh," Dove said, looking vaguely unconvinced. "Maera, isn't it?"

"Mm," Lianne confirmed uneasily, climbing to her feet with remarkably little grace. "Yes. Can – um – would you like me to do something? For you?" She had to fight the wince, and swallowed the uneasy certainty that she sounded horribly out of part and incompetent.

She stepped away from the stall door she had been peering over, giving a slight shake of the head as she moved down the aisle. "No. I just noticed you when I was passing by. You looked upset."

Lianne inhaled and set herself for the lie, even got as far as opening her mouth to say that she was perfectly all right, thank you – and then found herself stilled by the shrewd glance aimed her way. "Homesick," she allowed in a hesitant murmur, looking towards her feet and uneasily brushing imaginary straw from her breeches.

"You haven't lived here very long, have you?" Dove glanced over her shoulder, and nodded slightly when Lianne, after a pause, shook her head mutely. "I didn't think so. It's your accent. Tyran?"

"Tortallan," Lianne corrected, without thinking.

Dove looked at her – _really_ look at her, as if searching for something behind the word – and Lianne realized, from her slightly raised eyebrows, that it may have been better to have not said that. "Like Aly."

"Ah, well, yes, I suppose. I don't know what, um, area she was –" Even as she mumbled the words, Lianne knew she sounded ridiculous.

"It must be nice," Dove said, cutting off her stammering. She retrieved an apple from her pocket as she turned to face the blue roan occupying the stall she had stopped in front of. "Tortall, I mean. Everyone goes to school there, don't there? Even commoners? That's why your grammar is so good?"

"That's the Queen's doing," Lianne said, unable to think of any other sort of reply.

Dove twisted the stem from the apple with a quick jerk, nonplussed. "Yes," she said, nodding and looking mildly unconvinced. "That's what Aly said. We've heard stories of her here before, but never about the schools. She's supposed to be the most beautiful in the world, isn't she?"

"She is," Lianne said wistfully, her mother's face a clear image in her head. "The Peerless. Stories don't do her justice."

Dove looked at her in a way that brought Lianne sharply back to reality. "You've seen her? Up close?"

"On Progress," she half-mumbled, almost surprised that she was able to put her foot back in her mouth that quickly.

Long after Dove had left the stables and Lianne had thoroughly berated herself for not thinking before speaking, she couldn't help but wonder why both times she had had a conversation with the young noblewoman, it always felt as if she had been thoroughly examined in between the casual questions.

-

It had been sheer luck that Aly, upon returning from the stables from wherever it was she had been all day, had left her riding cloak draped over a stall door in her haste to get inside. It was extremely near the time the hostlers would be sent off to dinner when Lianne found and recognized it, so no one had minded when she volunteered to go return it. More luck – or so she had decided to view it.

Actually finding her had been slightly more difficult. Her room was located on the complete opposite side of the estate, just off the rooms of the two ladies of the house (for reasons Lianne couldn't quite figure out). By the time she got there her hands and breeches were damp and cold from the dripping material, and the door was locked. Lianne debated folding it up and leaving it outside the door – but couldn't imagine leaving a puddle in the middle of the finely decorated hall would be appreciated.

Most of the servants whom Lianne asked had no idea where she was; some either couldn't be bothered to reply, or couldn't understand her at all. The third stroke of luck hit when a farrier Lianne knew by face from the stables (and who had his own reasons for being uncommonly pleasant to her, despite the difficulty they had speaking through the accents, she suspected) overheard her asking someone else, and directed her towards the kitchen. She wasn't there – but she had been, and one of the girls there absent-mindedly pointed Lianne out the back door and into the herb garden at the rear of the house.

Empty. Lianne took a breath and closed her eyes against the rain and shook her head slightly, wondering if Aly was perhaps just walking about. She would check the small shed against the wall, she decided – and if Aly wasn't there, either, then she'd just return the cloak the next time they met up. The voices from beyond the wall grew loud enough to be heard before Lianne was even halfway to the shed. She stopped and tried to place the sound, which was distorted slightly by the falling rain. There – she realized after a moment that the high gate set in the rear wall had been propped open by a rock. Aly had pointed the gate out to her as leading to an alley, then to the street, on her first day - Lianne knew it'd only be unlocked if someone were on the other side, and headed towards it.

"...don't know where to go. I don't _know_ anyone outside the city," someone said – Aly? It sounded like her, at least.

"They're already searching the outer districts. She can't stay here." Another voice replied, and Lianne, with her hand outstretched to push open the gate, froze.

"Wait," Aly said, and there was a pause in which Lianne drew her hand slowly back and glanced at the gate. She was almost positive that from her position to the side, someone would not only need to open fully open the door, but actually look behind it to see her. And if they were talking about her... "All right. Find someone looking for a girl, somewhere a new face won't be noticed, in one of the districts they'll search first. It has to be soon. She's dangerous here."

"You don't think it's dangerous for her to be on her own?" the second voice asked. _Nawat?_ Lianne wondered, but wasn't sure.

Aly didn't speak for a moment, and when she did, she sounded upset. "We don't have a choice. I should never have brought her here to begin with. If she's found here..." Another pause, then, "I've known her since I was two years old. She's smart, she can manage herself."

"All right." He said, and then, "What if she won't go?"

"She'll go," Aly replied, sounding sure. "I'll think of something to say that'll convince her."

There was doubt in Nawat's voice, Lianne was sure of it – but all he said was, "I'll come back when I've found something."

She stepped away from the door, slowly while near enough to be heard, and then at a run once she could no longer hear them. The damp earth muffled her footsteps, and then she was inside again, dripping and numb inside and out. Her mind was racing, replaying the overheard conversation over in her head at rapid speeds until it stopped making sense, but she felt somehow distant from the confusion and not quite properly inside herself. Rain dripped from her clothes and fingers and hair, tracing paths along her nose and cheeks, but she couldn't be bothered to shake the drops away.

With a breath, Lianne turned, opened the door again, despite the strange looks a few members of the kitchen staff gave her. When she stepped outside and looked into the garden again, Aly was plainly visible through the rain; facing away, she closed and locked the gate.

"Aly!" Lianne called with a voice shakier than she thought it would be and clutching the cloak in her hands so tightly her fingers ached.

Aly turned at the sound, focused in on Lianne, and after a moment, smile at her. In that second, the confusion and numbness vanished, and her mind was made up.

-

Lianne could only be thankful that the hallway was empty, as she wasn't sure how she'd explain standing outside of Aly's closed door silently for upwards of five minutes. Already she had gone to knock and then pulled her hand back as if burned several times.

_Maybe if I waited,_ she thought, biting her lip. _That way I could plan what I was doing to say and – no_. She shook her head and took a breath. Perhaps listening to dreams and apparitions was a sign of madness, but what was it that little girl had told her? _Stop hiding._

Without allowing time to talk herself out of it again, Lianne reached out and rapped sharply on the wooden door once, nearly pulled back, and then, realizing what was done was done, knocked again. She could hear some shuffling inside, and then the door swung open and Aly stood, looking at her with first surprise, and then neutrality.

"Is everything all right?" she asked, glancing up and down the hallway briefly.

Lianne nodded slightly, but asked, "May, um...may I have a word? Please?"

Aly's eyebrows drew together questioningly but, stepping aside so Lianne could come, she said nothing. Feeling incredibly awkward, Lianne moved as far as the center of the room, then hovered there uncertainly.

"Lianne?" Aly questioned.

She turned to look at her friend, twisting the hem of her tunic around her finger. "Right. I was just wondering what...um, happens now?"

Aly blinked at her uncertainly. "What happens now?"

"Now that the harbor's closed," Lianne said, "And, I've heard they might lock the gates and...now what do we do?"

"Now we keep working on finding a ship," Aly said, and seemed to relax slightly. "Smugglers run no matter what, it's finding trustworthy ones that's difficult."

"Trustworthy smugglers?"

Aly shrugged and sat down casually on the edge of the bed. "Well, ones who take their money and leave it at that."

"Oh..." Lianne said, nodding slightly. "That's all I wanted to know."

"I'll see you tomorrow, then?"

She turned to leave, biting hard on the inside of her lip, and made it to the door before stopping abruptly and turning around. "Actually, that's not all. I – I wanted to know...I wanted to know if I'm staying here." Aly's masked slipped for a moment, and she blinked, startled. "I know it'd be bad if I were found here," Lianne pressed on in a rush, "But I don't have anywhere else – I just wanted to know what's going to...to happen. To me."

"I'm not going to let anything happen to you," Aly assured after a beat.

Lianne, heart sinking in her chest, looked at her feet. "But, see," she said. "That's not what I asked you."

"I know how you're feeling, but –" Aly began.

Lianne did not look up from her toes, feeling cold despite the room's temperature. "You don't," she said, shaking her head. "You don't know how I feel at all, and you aren't making it any easier, either."

"I can't drop everything and stay with your every second; I'm _getting_ you a ship home."

"That's not what I _mean_," Lianne said, frowning at her, "I mean stringing me around by the nose and never answering _any_thing I ask you and always being so _obtuse_."

Aly mask slipped again and she scowled, irritated. "I tell you everything you need to know."

"No you don't!" Lianne said, gaping. "You don't tell me anything! You won't tell me how you found me, or why this friend of yours is interested, or when I'm seeing _my_ brothers, or why I can't, for that matter –"

"Keep your voice down," she cut in, glancing towards the door set into the left wall. "You're being ridiculous."

Lianne stared at her. "Ridiculous? I'm being _ridiculous_? I've been kidnapped, dragged off to another country," she held up her hands and began to tick the list off on her fingers, voice rising as she went, "Re_placed_ at home by some simu-thing, brought here when I have _no_ idea why, and I'm _ridiculous_ when I want to know how I'm supposed to be getting away from the royal and, lest we forget, half-_insane _man trying to drag me off and marry me?"

"_Keep your voice down," _Aly snapped, standing swiftly. "It's not even about _being _married, you're putting everything completely –"

"Really? It's not?" Lianne demanded, speaking right over Aly and placing her hands on her hips. "And I expect you've been writing letters back and forth, and he's told you that himself, has he?"

Aly opened her mouth to say something back, looking livid, and then stopped and took a breath. "I'm going to sort it out," she said,

"You'll sort it out," Lianne repeated, staring at her. She said it again, voice taking on a slight note of hysteria. "You'll _sort_ it _out._"

Aly gave her a look of reproach. "Lianne..." she began.

"You'll sort _me_ out, don't you mean?" she demanded, quite beside herself. "You'll just find something clever to say and I'll follow blindly, is that it? Like I've been doing for weeks?"

"I'm not –"

"No," Lianne retorted. "_I'm_ not. I'm not doing this anymore. I've had enough."

"I _can't_ _tell you_ everything you want to know," Aly said, looking as if her temper were about to take the better of her.

Lianne folded her arms, half-blind with anger and not, at that moment, particularly caring, either. "Well you'd better find some way that you can, then," she said, raising her eyebrows. "Or I'm leaving. I'll go find Liam again and you won't have to worry about how _dangerous_ I am anymore."

"There are more important happening right now than you and you couldn't ever understand them." Aly hissed, leaning in to be heard. "You are being a spoilt brat. I thought you were better than that."

"And I thought _you_ were better than keeping information from your _friends_ just so you can always have the upper hand," Lianne shot back. She turned and stomped out the door; it was only through a great showing of willpower that she did not slam it behind her. Paying little mind the force of her footsteps or the other doors in the hallway, she went angrily to the servants' quarters, muttering darkly to herself all the way.

She'd wait a day, Lianne decided, as she stared at the darkened ceiling above her bed. One day for answers, and then she'd go out and find them herself.

-

**Author's Note: **Yeah, so, delay, not so good, and for those of you who've stuck around despite it and are still reading – thank you. I am doing my best to get these updates up ASAP, but the chapters are getting a bit more complicated, and I still do have those pesky real life obligations. I am trying though, promise!

Thank you to all the reviewers (200! glee) and...well, I'll let _you_ all decide who's what in this chapter.


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